


Home Is Where the Heart Is

by mikkimouse



Category: Tiger & Bunny
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fandom Trumps Hate, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Minor Antonio Lopez/Nathan Seymour, Mutual Pining, POV Multiple, Pining, Regency Romance, Slow Burn, brief discussion of grief and coping, hurt!Barnaby, ish
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-09
Updated: 2019-12-21
Packaged: 2021-02-26 05:35:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 43,679
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21728380
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mikkimouse/pseuds/mikkimouse
Summary: Barnaby Brooks Jr., Lord Lapincourt, is going back to his country estate for the first time in twenty years. His only goal is to fix the estate's precarious financial situation and return to the city as quickly as possible, but both the estate and his manor itself require far more work than he anticipated.The last thing Barnaby wants is help in the form of the annoying (and attractive) farmer who also happens to be his neighbor. But it might be exactly what he needs.(Or, the one where Barnaby and Kotetsu rebuild a house and fall in love, not necessarily in that order.)
Relationships: Barnaby "Bunny" Brooks Jr./Kaburagi T. Kotetsu
Comments: 137
Kudos: 160
Collections: Fandom Trumps Hate 2019





	1. In Which a Baron and a Farmer Meet

**Author's Note:**

  * For [rhysiana](https://archiveofourown.org/users/rhysiana/gifts).



> For [rhysiana](https://rhysiana.tumblr.com/), the second winner of my [Fandom Trumps Hate](https://fandomtrumpshate.dreamwidth.org/) auction waaaaaaaaaaay back at the beginning of this year. The very first thing in her email after I'd asked what she wanted was "Tiger & Bunny historical AU" and the noise I made, you guys. Oh my God. The fact that I managed to keep this to a somewhat-reasonable word count is a miracle in and of itself. 
> 
> Thank you to [cobrilee](https://cobrilee.tumblr.com/) for the beta read and for patiently answering all my endless questions, and thank you to [paintedrecs](https://twitter.com/paintedrecs) and [alocalband](https://alocalband.tumblr.com/) for your help with the summary. <3 
> 
> My goal is to post a chapter a day and hopefully have the whole thing up before the holidays hit full force. Since this is a complete AU, you don't need to know anything about the show to read it.
> 
> Hope you all enjoy!

Barnaby had learned an unsettling number of unsavory things over the past two weeks. 

One, that his former guardian had been embezzling funds from his estate. 

Two, that said estate was falling speedily into disrepair. 

And three, that the tenants on said estate were thirty seconds away from rioting unless he could find a way to fix everything that Maverick had spent twenty years ruining. 

Now, on the pitted road to the country manor he hadn't set foot in since he was a child, Barnaby had learned one more unsettling, unsavory thing. 

Geese could hiss. 

He stared at the flock of them milling around the road as if they hadn't a care in the world. He'd heard sheep might be an issue out here, and indeed he'd seen many of them roaming the green hills, but he hadn't expected _geese_. 

The leader, a rather large fellow—at least, Barnaby assumed it was a fellow; he had no way of knowing—turned its head and eyed Barnaby in a way that made him doubt the claim that geese were lower on the food chain than humans. His driver, perhaps prudently, had not gotten down from his spot on top of the carriage. The horses didn't seem frightened of the geese, but neither did they seem keen to march through the flock blocking the road. 

Barnaby closed his eyes and sighed. A headache was building behind the bridge of his nose, he'd been traveling since yesterday afternoon, and he'd scarcely slept in the past fortnight. He did not have the emotional fortitude to deal with geese. 

"Have you got a gun?" Barnaby asked his driver. 

The man shook his head. "No, milord. Besides, flock this big probably belongs to someone. We'll be in a heap of trouble if you go around shooting 'em." 

Barnaby's hope had more been that they could scare the damn things away, but if the geese weren't afraid of horses, it was unlikely they would scatter at a gunshot. 

"Who the hell just lets their geese run loose like this?" he muttered. "Shouldn't they be locked in a pen or something?" 

"They probably haven't wandered far," the driver said. "I imagine we could go looking for the owner." 

Barnaby scanned the rolling hills, grass gleaming in the sunlight. He couldn't see any indication of a house nearby. Then again, out in the country, "far" was a relative term. 

He opened the carriage door to see if he could find anything that might be useful in shooing geese off the road. A gun would have made things _much_ easier. 

"There you are!" 

Barnaby jerked out of the carriage, searching for the source of the voice. Nobody knew he was coming and they were far enough out from the manor that nobody would be coming up to meet him, so who...

A man scrambled over the hill beside the road, a long stick in one hand and the other holding a flat cap on his head. He wore a waistcoat, but no jacket, and his shirtsleeves were rolled up to his elbows. Barnaby had no idea who he could be; he doubted the man was a noble, but he seemed too nicely dressed to be one of the villagers. 

The man skidded to a stop beside them and smiled, a brilliant flash of white against his tanned skin. This close, Barnaby could see he had the most ridiculous beard he'd ever seen on another person, like a pair of cat ears on either side of his chin. "Sorry! Sorry. I'll have them out of your way in a second. Herbert likes to wander and the others just follow." 

"Herbert?" Barnaby repeated. 

The man gestured with his stick to the largest goose, the one Barnaby had assumed was the leader. "That's Herbert. And he's going to be Christmas dinner if he's not careful."

The last sentence was delivered with a warning glare at Herbert, who honked lazily in response. He did not seem particularly concerned about becoming dinner for misbehaving. 

The man poked Herbert with the stick. Herbert gave him a baleful glare out of one beady eye and went back to pecking at the ground. 

The man rubbed the back of his neck. "Heh. Might take a little longer than I thought." 

Barnaby pressed his fingers to the bridge of his nose, just under his glasses, in an effort to alleviate his budding headache. It did absolutely nothing. "You know, it's very irresponsible for you to let your geese run loose." 

The man turned back to Barnaby. "Oh? Do you raise geese?" 

"Not as such, no, but—" 

"Then how do you know, huh?" The man returned his attention to his wayward goose. "Herbert, come on, let's go home. You like home!"

Herbert honked and settled on the ground like he might stay there. The rest of the geese followed suit. 

Barnaby groaned. "Are these even your geese?" 

"What? Of course they are." 

Barnaby glared at the man. "Then _why_ don't you have any way of controlling them?" 

The man looked appalled. "Because they're _animals_. You don't control them. You train them and hope for the best." He frowned and seemed to register both Barnaby's clothes and the carriage. "Who are you, anyway?" 

Barnaby tensed. He hadn't expected to meet anyone before he returned to the estate; he wasn't prepared for a proper introduction. He drew himself up anyway, stiff and straight. "I could ask you the same question."

"I asked you first," the man said, which was both childish and annoyingly accurate. "With those fancy clothes and that accent, you're definitely not from around here. So what are you doing out in our sleepy little town?" 

Barnaby gritted his teeth and reminded himself it wouldn't do to strangle someone he'd just met. "Apollon Manor is my estate." 

The man's eyebrows shot up. "Really?" 

" _Yes_ ," Barnaby said testily. 

The man scratched his chin, like he was thinking. "So, are you a cousin or something?" 

"Or something." The man didn't need to know the details and Barnaby didn't feel like enlightening him. "Now who are _you_?" 

The man grinned and stuck out his hand. "Kotetsu Kaburagi. I have the farm just south of your land."

Barnaby regarded him silently and did not reach out to shake his hand. He tried to recall the name, but could not. Then again, he'd been only four when he'd left Apollon Manor for Stern Bild; it was no wonder he couldn't remember if he'd ever heard _Kaburagi_ before. 

Slowly, the man lowered his hand. "You're not very friendly, are you?" 

Barnaby's jaw twitched and the headache finally surged forth. "I've been traveling for two days. I am tired. I am sore. I am also, to my understanding, less than an hour from my destination. And I cannot _reach_ it, because your damned geese are sitting in the middle of the damned road!" 

At that, one of the cursed creatures—not Herbert, shockingly—honked. 

Barnaby had never had particularly strong feelings about geese one way or the other, but after today, they were definitely in the running for his least favorite animal on the planet. 

Kaburagi looked surprised at his outburst, and Barnaby cursed inwardly. He knew not to let his emotions get the better of him, but it had been a very trying few weeks and something about this man just annoyed him. Barnaby didn't have a better word for it. 

He turned back to his carriage. He was going to find something to get rid of the geese with if it was the last thing he did. 

There was a whistle behind him, followed by a veritable flurry of honks. 

Barnaby drew back out of the carriage to see the geese all stand up and waddle toward one of the hills, the same one Kaburagi had come over, he noted. The man in question was behind Herbert, prodding him with a stick as he herded the geese out of the road. 

Kaburagi touched the front of his hat with two fingers, as if in a mock salute. "Have a good trip, Lord Bunny. We'll see you around." 

Barnaby sputtered. "My name is not _Bunny!_ "

His irritation appeared only to amuse the man, because Kaburagi gave him a cheeky grin in response. "You didn't give me your name!" 

"It's _Barnaby!_ " Barnaby shouted, but it apparently didn't matter because Kaburagi was already vanishing over the hill. 

He closed his eyes and clenched his jaw against both his headache and the _stream_ of curses that wanted to issue forth from his mouth. How had he let the man needle him so badly that he hadn't even introduced himself properly? 

"Are you ready to go, milord?" his driver asked. 

Barnaby stalked back to the carriage to get inside and froze when he saw the crest on the door. He'd seen it hundreds of times in his life, if not thousands; so many times that he no longer paid attention to it. It was just so much background noise. 

He'd completely forgotten there was a _rabbit_ in it. 

He exhaled sharply. Somehow he had a feeling that meant he'd be hearing "Lord Bunny" a lot more than he liked. 

"Milord?" the coachman repeated. 

Barnaby shook his head and climbed inside. "Yes. Please. I'm ready to go." 

They started off with a jerk, and the movement escalated his headache twofold. Barnaby rubbed the side of his head and groaned. 

Of all the unsettling, unsavory things he could've learned on the road to his estate, that a man like _that_ was his neighbor was even worse than the geese.

***

Kotetsu had been home for all of half an hour and was just washing up when his front door swung open and Nathan's voice echoed through the house. " _Yoohoo!_ Anybody home?" 

"No," Kotetsu called back. "We're sleeping. Come back later." 

"Ooh, sleeping in the middle of the day?" Nathan's head popped around the open door. "Sounds positively luxurious." 

Kotetsu flicked water in his direction, and Nathan wrinkled his nose and pulled out of the way. "Don't you dare ruin this dress, Kotetsu Kaburagi. I just got it from the modiste." 

Kotetsu dried his hands off and stepped into the hallway. Nathan's dress was very nice and _very_ pink, and likely very fashionable, but Kotetsu wouldn't know the first thing about what was in fashion these days. "It's pretty?" he tried. "It looks good on you." 

Nathan sauntered into the living room and draped himself along the couch. "Thank you, I know it does. Did you hear the news?" 

Kotetsu leaned on the doorjamb. "That you got a new dress?" 

Nathan made a face at him. "Don't tease me. I already told you that news." 

Kotetsu rolled his eyes. New clothes were third on Nathan's list of important news. First on the list were any scandals out of Stern Bild. Nathan read the gossip papers obsessively and usually passed them off to Kaede; Kotetsu had to confiscate what seemed like a half dozen new ones every week. 

But second on the list of "important news" was new people. And given how his afternoon had gone, Kotetsu could guess where this conversation was going. 

"Someone new in town?" Kotetsu asked. 

Nathan's eyes lit up, and he sat up straight in a swish of satin. " _Yes_. You remember Lord and Lady Lapincourt?" 

"I do." Kotetsu debated playing dumb for about half a second and decided not to. "Their son's back in town." 

Nathan's face fell. "How did you already _know_?" 

"Because my geese stopped his carriage on the way to Apollon Manor." Kotetsu went into the kitchen to get tea; it looked like Nathan would be staying awhile and Miss Lahey, their housekeeper, was out for the afternoon. "He was very cross about it. Didn't seem to like Herbert."

"Nobody likes Herbert," Nathan reminded him. "Except you."

"Herbert's family," Kotetsu said loyally. 

"So what was he like?" Nathan's voice carried into the kitchen, although admittedly, it wasn't very far to carry. 

Kotetsu put the kettle on the fire. "Herbert?" 

"Don't play dumb with me," Nathan scolded.

Kotetsu sighed. "Lapincourt? He was a prick." 

Nathan made an outraged noise. "That's it?!" 

"I only spoke with him for five minutes and he was huffy about the whole thing." 

"Well, it's not _too_ surprising." Nathan sashayed into the kitchen and took a seat at the tiny table there. "You know _why_ he's just now coming back, right?" 

Kotetsu shrugged. He remembered the son had gone to live with relatives in the city or something of the sort after the fire, but that was the last he'd heard of it. As far as he knew, the boy hadn't set foot back on the estate in twenty years. 

Well, man now. Definitely a man.

"Apparently the previous guardian of the estate, a Mr. Albert Maverick, passed away recently," Nathan said. " _And_ apparently he'd been embezzling funds for the entire twenty years." 

Kotetsu almost dropped the tea tin and scrambled to catch it. " _What?_ Did Lapincourt know?" 

Nathan's eyes lit up like they always did when he had a juicy bit of news. "Had no idea about any of it, from what I hear. And there's some speculation that Mr. Maverick's death was a suicide to get out of paying his creditors."

Oh, hell. Kotetsu set the tea tin aside and wiped a hand over his face. "Have you told anyone else?" 

"Of course not." Nathan sounded offended. "You know I love sharing news with you first." 

"Good. _Don't_ tell anyone else about that." 

Nathan pouted. "Why not?" 

"Because this is going to be hard enough. He doesn't need everybody gossiping about why he's back." Kotetsu considered the bitter _or something_ Lapincourt had responded with when he'd asked who he was. "And I don't think he's ready for people to know he's back, either." 

That may have had something to do with his attitude, actually, now that Kotetsu thought about it. 

Admittedly, he'd been a lot more focused on Tomoe back then than he had anything else—fifteen-year-old boy; he thought he could be forgiven—but he remembered the fire. He remembered the entire village pouring out of their homes to help douse the flames. He remembered the heat of it, how the flames stretched all the way to the top of the house, orange and yellow against the dark sky. He remembered every muscle in his body screaming from hauling water, how the smell of smoke lingered for days in his hair and clothes and he thought it would never come out, that that night would be a physical part of him for the rest of his life. 

He also remembered a little boy with gold hair clinging to Mrs. Taylor, the housekeeper, watching the entire thing with huge green eyes, his face half-hidden behind her skirt. 

They'd managed to stop it from spreading to the entire house, and instead it had been confined to one wing. Unfortunately, that had also been the wing where Lord and Lady Lapincourt slept, and neither of them had made it out. 

The baron's man of business had shown up three days later to take control of the estate and take the boy to Stern Bild, and Kotetsu hadn't seen either again. They'd left right after the funeral.

Nathan regarded him steadily and seriously. "Do you want to talk about what's got you looking so serious?" 

As outrageous as he could be, Nathan was one of the most intelligent and perceptive people Kotetsu knew. He shook his head. "Not really. You won't mention it to anybody else?" 

"Of course not," Nathan said, and then pouted again. "You ruin all my fun." 

Kotetsu snorted and poured the tea. The reprimand was just for show. Nathan wouldn't tell anybody else what he'd learned; he could keep secrets with the best of them. 

"So," Nathan drummed his nails on the table, "if he's a bit of a prick, I suppose there's no use in asking him about the rents."

Kotetsu set the tea service on the table and finally sat down. "Probably not right now." 

Nathan dropped a cube of sugar in his tea. "Damn it." 

Kotetsu was not _terribly_ surprised to hear Maverick had actually been an ass of the highest order. The rents had gone up less than a year after Lord and Lady Lapincourt had died and had continued to do so for the next ten. Everybody in the village was struggling, some more than others, and Kotetsu had _hoped_ they might get a chance to ask about lowering the rents. 

Unfortunately, it didn't sound like the new lord would be amenable to that idea. Not if Maverick had been embezzling funds. 

Nathan snagged a scone from the tray on the table. "Well, no use worrying about it for now, I suppose. Our dear vicar let me know that there are a few others who could use our help." 

Kotetsu nodded. That was probably the rest of the reason Nathan had shown up. "We can talk about it after supper, if you want to stay." 

"Hmm." Nathan tapped a perfectly manicured nail against his chin. "Who's cooking?" 

"I am." 

Nathan made a face. "Then I'll just join you for a drink after, shall I?" 

"I can cook!" Kotetsu protested. 

"You can cook _one thing_. You cook it well, but a lady _tires_ of having the same thing for supper so often."

Kotetsu propped his chin in his hand and gave Nathan a flat look, and said the one thing guaranteed to change his mind. "Antonio's coming over for supper, too." 

Nathan narrowed his eyes just slightly, like he'd realized he'd been played, and then sat back and sipped his tea. "Well, then. I seem to have developed a sudden craving for fried rice." 

Kotetsu smirked. "I thought you might."


	2. In Which There Are Concerns

The house was almost the same. 

Barnaby stood in front of it, the façade of the manor rising imposingly into the sky, perhaps not quite as large as it had been when he'd been a child, but still impressive. 

He very carefully did not look at the north wing. 

Three people stood on the front steps, like they were waiting for him. With a pang, Barnaby remembered when there had been a full staff, where there was always someone around. How many had been let go because of the way Maverick had mismanaged the funds? Had they been able to find other employment? Had Maverick bothered giving them references, or had he just cast them out? 

And how many of those left would _he_ have to let go, if he couldn't find a way to fix what had been so thoroughly broken? 

Barnaby pushed the thoughts away. His only goal right now was to save as much of the estate as he could. Once he'd done that, he could return to Stern Bild. The idea of staying at this house any longer than he had to made his stomach turn. Too many memories, and too few of them pleasant.

But he made himself put on a smile and walk up to the front steps. They were expecting him to be the lord, so the lord he would be. 

The first of the three, an older woman with white hair and glasses, stepped forward. "Oh, young master, it's so good to see you again." 

Barnaby recognized her voice instantly, and his forced smile became genuine. "Samantha. I mean, pardon, Mrs. Taylor." 

Her eyes twinkled. "Samantha is fine." 

The first four years of his life it had been "Samantha," and while Barnaby desperately wanted something from back then that _hadn't_ changed, that was a level of familiarity he couldn't maintain now. He clasped her hand. "Mrs. Taylor. It's good to see you, too. I'm sorry I've been away so long." 

He should've come back sooner, should've done _something_ sooner, instead of just assuming that Maverick would take care of all of it. 

Samantha shook her head. "Don't apologize. We're just happy you've made it back. You remember Mr. Holt and Mr. Garrett, don't you?" 

It had been twenty years, so the two men in front of him had been much younger, with fewer lines on their faces and much less white hair, but Barnaby had vague memories of both. "I do. I'm glad to see you're all still here." 

Glad to see anyone was still here, if he was being perfectly honest. 

"Mr. Holt, please fetch the bags," Samantha said, and then turned back to Barnaby. "Will you take supper in your room, or would you like to join us downstairs? I can set the dining table, if you'd like." 

The idea of eating alone at the dining table made him recoil. Barnaby shook his head. "No, I'll take it in the study. I have a lot to catch up on." 

Samantha's smile faltered briefly, and for the first time, Barnaby saw the worry she must have been operating under. "That's all right, then," she said. "I'll bring up a tray once it's ready. Will you be wanting tea?" 

"With supper, if you please," Barnaby said. "Thank you, Mrs. Taylor."

She nodded, and her smile was back. "We'll make sure your rooms are ready. You'll be in the east wing near the study, unless you'd rather somewhere else?"

They'd probably already set up a room in the east wing for him, and Barnaby had no strong feelings one way or the other. "That's fine," he said. 

He left them to it and walked through the massive front doors he hadn't stepped through since he was a child. 

It was darker than he remembered. Part of him instantly dismissed the notion as foolish—as though his parents' deaths had taken all light and warmth out of the house—but no, heavy drapes hung over many of the windows, most of which, upon closer inspection, looked like they hadn't been moved in ages. One of the front rooms was as clean as he remembered, but the others had sheets draped over the furniture and looked as though they hadn't been opened in years, let alone cleaned.

Why would they have been? With his parents dead, him in Stern Bild, and not even a skeleton staff, it was no wonder. He imagined Samantha had only kept up the parts of the house she and the others needed to live in.

He should have gone straight to the study—Barnaby was reasonably sure he remembered where it was—but he walked through the rest of the downstairs instead. It was a little like walking through a mausoleum. Very little seemed to have changed in the past twenty years; the largest difference was that it was now all dark and dusty and faded with age. 

He finally walked up the main staircase to the second story and made his way to the east wing. That had been where his father's study was, as well as two of the guest chambers, if he remembered correctly. The west wing of the house was where his mother's rooms had been, as well as the nursery. 

He was powerfully grateful that Samantha had thought to put him here, rather than in any area that would have more memories associated with it. 

Two doors in the wing were open and the curtains on the far windows had been thrown open, letting more light into this upstairs corridor, although the time of day meant it wasn't as bright as it would be in the mornings. It wasn't quite as dusty up here as the downstairs had been, probably because Samantha wanted to make sure the room where he would be sleeping was clean. 

Barnaby took a deep breath and opened the door to the study. 

The drapes were wide open, along with the windows themselves, filling the air with the heat of the summer day. No fire in the grate, but it had been cleaned, and just about every surface gleamed with the freshness of having been wiped down. It was so similar to what Barnaby remembered that he half-expected to see his father sitting behind the desk. 

He wasn't, of course. The only thing on the desk was a chest, likely the papers sent by Barnaby's solicitor. All the things that had been collected and catalogued and that now needed his attention. His _immediate_ attention. 

His throat tightened at the sight. He'd graduated top of his class; he wasn't stupid. But Maverick had never given him more than a cursory explanation of what he would need to do about his estate, hadn't even started his education in that respect until four years ago when Barnaby had started pushing for it. And he'd been far too young to learn anything from his father. Managing a barony was a lot of work at the best of times, and calling this situation a best _anything_ was laughable. He was in so very far over his head. 

Barnaby shook his head to cast away the thoughts. The only thing that remained to be done was to go through every scrap of paperwork in that box and in this office piece by piece until he had some idea of what he could do to offset the tremendous debts Maverick had incurred. The picture that he'd gotten was bleak enough; he wasn't sure what would come once he had the actual details. 

But it wasn't until he had the details that he could formulate a plan of attack, and once he had that, he could implement it and get back to Stern Bild, away from this too-large house with too many memories pressing in on all sides.

***

Someone banged on the door and Barnaby jolted straight up off the sofa. 

The door creaked open and Samantha poked her head in. "Good morning, milord. Did you sleep well?" 

Barnaby ran a hand through his hair and groped for his glasses. Everything was blurry. "Yes, thank you." 

"That's good to hear. I've always found beds to be a bit more comfortable, myself, but who knows what they're doing in Stern Bild these days." 

He found his glasses on the side table and put them on, finally able to see the sly smile Samantha was giving him. 

"I was working late," Barnaby said defensively. 

Samantha continued smiling pleasantly. "I'm sure you were working very hard, sir. Breakfast will be ready in fifteen minutes. Will you be joining us downstairs, or should I bring you a tray?" 

Barnaby rubbed the bridge of his nose. The headache from yesterday had subsided some, but still felt like it was lying in wait. Sleeping on the sofa probably hadn't helped with that, nor had spending several hours poring over paperwork by candlelight. "I'll have a tray up here, please." 

Samantha nodded. "Of course. I'll bring it as soon as it's ready. Will you be taking tea as well?" 

"Yes, please." He considered, and then gave in. "And something for a headache, if you have it." 

"Right away, sir." 

She curtsied and left the room, the door swinging silently shut behind her. 

Barnaby sighed and sat back against the sofa, looking over at the desk. The chest was on the floor, now, open and half-empty, most of the papers stacked on the desk as neatly as he could make them. 

From the headway he'd made last night, the situation was not _quite_ as dire as he'd been led to believe—it appeared there were some aspects of his inheritance that Maverick hadn't been able to touch, thank heaven, and those would help tremendously—but it was still going to require a massive amount of work to get things back to where they needed to be without losing anyone else or losing the manor entirely. 

He took off his glasses and scrubbed his hands over his face. Twenty years he'd been fooled. Twenty years he'd truly believed Maverick had the barony's best interests at heart, believed he was taking good care of the manor and the people employed here, believed that he didn't need to worry about it just yet. 

And then he'd turned out to be absolutely wrong about all of it. 

_Idiot_ , he thought, and went to wash up before Samantha came back with breakfast. 

He found his things in the guest room closest to the study and once again found himself powerfully grateful that Samantha had had the foresight to put him in a room without memories attached to it. Well, without _more_ memories attached to it. The damned things were everywhere in this house. 

Barnaby returned to the study and had just enough time to clear a space on the desk when Samantha came in with a tray of breakfast and tea. 

She set it on the space he'd just cleared and poured the tea, and Barnaby took some headache powder with a glass of water. Hopefully it would help quickly, although his headaches had a way of sticking around.

Samantha frowned at it. "Perhaps you should lie down a little later, sir. You had a long trip. You ought to get some real rest." 

"I will be fine, Mrs. Taylor, but thank you for your concern," Barnaby said. "And thank you for the breakfast." 

"Of course. Just ring for me if you need anything else." She started out the door of the study, and then paused. "Although, milord, there was one thing I wanted to ask." 

"Hm?" 

"What would you think of having a party?" 

Barnaby stared at her. He had to be half-asleep still, and possibly hallucinating. No, his mouth tasted like headache powder. This couldn't be a hallucination. "Pardon?" 

Samantha sighed and sat in the chair nearest the desk. "It's just, you've been away for so long. It's important that the people around here know you and that you know them. It's been twenty years since they've seen the master of this estate, you know. And it's been...hard." 

Barnaby flinched inwardly at the words and took a sip of tea. He didn't think Samantha was criticizing him for staying away, but it felt a bit like that regardless. 

"Just opening the house and letting them come inside will go a long way, I think," Samantha continued. 

"Most of the house has been closed up for those twenty years," Barnaby pointed out. "Getting it ready for visitors would be a lot of work, wouldn't it?" 

Samantha folded her hands in her lap and smiled at him. "It's my job, milord. I assure you, I can do it well." 

"I didn't mean to insinuate otherwise," Barnaby said quickly. "But I know that me being here is already creating more work for you. I don't want you to have even more work on my behalf." 

"The work we can handle. I have a few girls around the village who can help me get everything ready," Samantha said. "It won't be as fancy as one of your city balls, but it'll be good for what people need." 

_What people need_. He wondered what kind of rumors were spreading about him and his sudden reappearance. "What do you think they'll see if they come?" 

"I believe they'll see a young man who's trying very hard to do the right thing," she said quietly. 

Barnaby stiffened. "I don't intend to stay." He'd never intended that, but he needed to make sure Samantha knew that, too. "I'll do my best to make sure everything is sorted properly, but I have to get back to the city once it is." 

"Of course you do, sir," she said. "I never thought otherwise." 

He watched her, trying to see if she'd meant it. It had been too long since he'd spent any time around her. Her hair was entirely white now, and the lines around her eyes and mouth were deeper than he remembered, but she still looked perfectly composed. No part of her face hinted at what she was thinking, if she were disappointed or if she really hadn't expected him to stay. 

"However, if you don't mind me saying so, I don't think it matters if you're going to stay. You are still the baron. You'll be responsible for their livelihoods. I don't believe it's a bad thing to let the people get to know you a little bit." She smiled and stood. "Will you think about it?" 

"I'll think about it," Barnaby agreed, even though he had a feeling he was going to say _yes_. 

Samantha smiled and went to the door. "Thank you, sir. And just let me know if you need anything else." 

"I will." 

She left him alone, and Barnaby sipped his tea. He didn't really like the idea of people tramping through his house, but she _was_ right. It had been twenty years since the baron had been in residence and right now, he would guess people knew more about Maverick than they knew about him. Which was not good. 

The absolute last thing he wanted to do was deal with a party while he was trying to get a handle on the rest of the estate, but maybe he wouldn't have to do too much. Samantha had been insistent, and if she thought she could handle it, Barnaby wouldn't argue. 

She'd been at this house as long as he could remember. She'd known his parents well. If she thought this was a good idea, Barnaby would trust her judgment. 

He sighed and picked at his breakfast. It looked like they would be having a party after all.


	3. In Which There Is a Party

"I can't believe we're doing this," Kotetsu said. 

His mother gave him a sharp look. "We are doing this, and you are going to be on your best behavior, Kotetsu Kaburagi." 

"I'm always on my best behavior!" Kotetsu argued. 

Anju did not look convinced. 

Kaede practically vibrated with excitement between them. "I can't believe we're going to a real party at Apollon Manor and we're going to _meet_ Lord Lapincourt." She glared up at Kotetsu. " _Really_ meet him, not just stop his carriage in the road." 

Kotetsu made a face at his daughter and reached over to tweak her hair. " _I_ didn't stop his carriage. That was the geese." 

That didn't do anything to change Kaede's glare. 

Kotetsu sighed. She'd been irritated with him all week since she'd found out he'd met Lapincourt and hadn't been impressed. His mother hadn't been too happy with him, either; apparently describing Lapincourt as a "prick" where Kaede could hear wasn't the best decision on his part. 

Which, admittedly, Kotetsu couldn't argue with that. Kaede was nearly eleven years old; he needed to be a little more concerned with the example he was setting. It wouldn't be too long before she would be looking for a match. Ugh, he intended to put off thinking about _that_ for as long as he could. 

It was a warm evening, but even so, they were walking rather than taking the carriage. Anju saw no sense in getting a carriage all put together when it wasn't that far between their house and Lapincourt's estate, and Kotetsu was reasonably sure Kaede could walk to Stern Bild and back without needing to catch her breath. 

It had been something of a surprise to get the invitation to the party, especially coming up as quickly as it was. Kotetsu's impression had been that Lapincourt wasn't that enthused about meeting anyone in the village, let alone throwing his home open to all of them. It _was_ possible he'd misunderstood; he supposed having your travel interrupted by geese would make anyone unhappy. 

Then again, Lapincourt hadn't gone out of his way to introduce himself or lord his title over Kotetsu, which implied he didn't want it known that he'd returned. Then _again_ , it had been an entire week and maybe a good night's rest had changed the man's mind. 

He _did_ remember the irritated "It's _Barnaby!_ " that had followed him from the road when he'd herded the geese away. Lapincourt hadn't thrown his title after Kotetsu, but his actual name. That was interesting, to say the least. 

Kotetsu hadn't mentioned that particular tidbit to anybody. Whatever it meant that Lapincourt had yelled his name after him, he was keeping it to himself. 

They crested the next hill, and Apollon Manor stood before them, a large shadow on the horizon. If they were in the city, Kotetsu imagined they'd see fancy carriages lined up all the way down the drive, but as it was, there were only a handful. Among them, he spotted his brother Muramasa's and Ben Jackson's. Since Muramasa owned the only tavern in the village and Ben ran the general store, that was to be expected. 

Kaede practically danced ahead, and then stopped and looked back at him, impatience written all over her face. "Da- _ad!_ Grandma! Come _on!_ We're going to be late!" 

"These parties go until after midnight," Kotetsu said. "I'm not sure it's possible to be late." 

"We are _not_ staying until midnight," Anju said. 

Kotetsu privately agreed. He was here more out of curiosity than anything. "Why are you so excited, Kaede? You've been over here all week helping Mrs. Taylor. Haven't you seen everything already?" 

She put her hands on her hips. "I've helped _clean_ the house. I haven't seen it clean. And I haven't met Lord Lapincourt. Only _you've_ done that." 

Something in her tone and posture reminded him so much of Tomoe that it hurt, and Kotetsu had to take a breath against the sudden sharp pain in his chest. "Well, next time I go chasing after Herbert and the geese, I'll make sure you come with me. Just in case I meet any other barons." 

Kaede scoffed, like he was utterly impossible. "Will you just hurry up?" 

"Kaede," Anju scolded, "you're a young lady. You shouldn't rush so much." 

Kaede looked as though she wanted to complain, but she pressed her lips together and smoothed her skirt instead. At least she was trying to obey. 

Kotetsu didn't really hurry so much as he lengthened his stride so he could catch up to her. "All right, we'll get there quickly. We don't want to be late, right?" 

Kaede beamed up at him. "Right!" 

They were not the only ones walking up to the manor; Kotetsu saw a few other groups slowly making their way down the drive to the main entrance. From the look of it, most of the village was here. 

It was a big house. A nice house. Most of the windows were open, with lanterns lit in a handful, which made the place feel a lot more welcoming than it had been in the past. The few times Kotetsu had been over here after the fire, it had felt dark and quiet and foreboding, no matter how much Mrs. Taylor had tried to keep it looking otherwise. The house was too big with too much tragedy. 

They joined the line of people waiting just outside the open front doors, and it didn't take Kotetsu long to see _why_ there was a line. The young lord was just inside the doors, greeting every single one of them himself. 

Well, _this_ was something he hadn't expected. Maybe Lapincourt was different, after all. 

Kaede stood on her tiptoes. "I can't see! What's taking so long for us to get inside?"

"Kaede, patience," Anju scolded.

Kotetsu rested a hand on her shoulder. "Lord Lapincourt's greeting everyone personally. It'll take some time." 

Kaede whipped her head up to him, eyes huge. "Really?" 

Kotetsu shrugged. "That's what it looks like." 

If he'd thought she'd been excited before, it was nothing compared to the way her entire face lit up now. 

The line moved slowly, and as they got closer, Kotetsu could make out just what Lapincourt was saying to each person. 

"Welcome to Apollon Manor. I'm Lord Lapincourt. And you are? Lovely to meet you."

To the next person: "Welcome to Apollon Manor. I'm Lord Lapincourt. And you are?" 

To the next three people _after_ that: "Welcome to Apollon Manor. I'm Lord Lapincourt. And you are?" 

By the time they were close enough to be at the front doors, Kotetsu had heard the entire introduction enough times to mimic the words and inflection himself. How had the man managed to utter it so many times over the past half hour without betraying any irritation at all? 

And then it was their turn to be introduced. 

Lapincourt turned to them, a genteel and polite smile on his face. "Welcome to—" 

Then his eyes settled on Kotetsu and widened with a spark of recognition, followed immediately by a flare of annoyance. His mouth snapped shut, cutting the rest of the words off. 

Kotetsu grinned. "Lord Bunny. So good to see you again." 

His mother's elbow landed in his side, and Kotetsu grunted. Kaede hissed, " _Dad!_ "

"What?" He feigned ignorance. "We've already met." 

"Mr. Kaburagi," Lapincourt said, his pleasant tone replaced by something sharper and more clipped. "I see you left your geese at home this time." 

"Herbert wasn't feeling up to the walk," Kotetsu said. "He sends his regrets." Another elbow to his side. " _Ow!_ "

"Behave," Anju muttered under her breath, and then turned a genuine smile to Lapincourt. "I apologize for my son, my lord. Never could do anything with him." 

The annoyed glare flipped back to the polite smile in the blink of an eye. "That's quite all right. I'm sure you did your best, Mrs. Kaburagi." He turned to Kaede. "And you are?" 

"Kaede Kaburagi," Kotetsu said. "My daughter." 

Kaede gave a pretty respectable curtsey, all things considered. "Pleased to meet you, my lord." 

"And you as well, Miss Kaburagi," Lapincourt said. He turned his attention back to Kotetsu. "Will your wife be joining us?" 

There was no way the man could know, but that didn't make it hurt any less and it wouldn't make the next few minutes any less awkward. "No. She died a few years ago." 

Lapincourt froze, and Kotetsu could practically see the regret flashing over his face. 

No, he didn't want to get into that conversation right now. "We'll let you get back to greeting your guests. Thank you again for having us, Lord Bunny." 

That brought back the irritation again, just as Kotetsu had expected it would. He ushered Kaede and his mother away before Lapincourt could respond. 

"I can't _believe_ you're so rude to him!" Kaede snapped at a remarkably low volume. "His title isn't _Bunny_." 

"Yes, it is," Kotetsu said. " _Lapin_ is French for bunny. Besides, he didn't tell me who he was when we met. I had to call him _something_." 

That did not actually make his daughter any less irritated with him. "Why didn't you ask his name like a normal person?!" 

"I did! He didn't give it to me!" Kotetsu protested. 

Kaede huffed and rolled her eyes, apparently deciding he was too silly to speak with. 

His mother, he noticed, had not elbowed him for that last "Lord Bunny." He touched her arm. "Can I get you a drink?" 

"I'll get my own," Anju said, and patted his arm. "Why don't you take Kaede around to look at the rooms?" 

She had a too-knowing look in her eye, and Kotetsu half-wondered if she guessed what he'd been doing. She had a tendency to do that. 

He let her make her way into the main ballroom, where at least half the village was lined up for lemonade. Everybody else was milling through the front drawing rooms, openly gawking. Understandable, since no one had really set foot in here since the previous baron had been in residence. 

And not much had changed, from what Kotetsu could see. He hadn't been inside the manor much, but Tomoe had worked here until the fire and he'd visited her a few times. His memory was spotty, but the furniture and coverings all appeared to be the same ones that had been here twenty years ago. 

Kotetsu glanced back over his shoulder to where Lapincourt was once again greeting people. Had he made any plans to make this place his own, or was he content to leave it as it had been? And if he was leaving it all as it had been, did that mean he had no intention of staying? 

Ugh, thinking about it made his head hurt. 

Kaede spotted a few of her friends and ran off to join them, and Kotetsu went to get himself a drink. A _real_ drink, not any of the punch and lemonade that had been put out for the guests. 

It had been awhile since he'd tried to navigate the manor, but he managed to find his way back to the kitchen without getting lost. Sure enough, Muramasa was there sorting some of his spirits from the tavern, and Antonio was helping him with the barrels of beer. 

Kotetsu walked in and waved. "Thought I'd find you back here." 

Muramasa frowned at him. "You're not supposed to be skulking around. Where's Mom and Kaede?" 

"Kaede's with her friends, and Mom left me as soon as we were in the door," Kotetsu said. "And I'm not _skulking_. I came to help." 

Muramasa scoffed. "Came to find the alcohol, you mean." 

" _And_ help," Kotetsu insisted. He'd started the story; he might as well go all the way with it. 

Antonio rolled his eyes and poured them each a glass. "You're a bad liar." 

Kotetsu took the drink, and Muramasa sat on a stool and took another glass. 

They all drank in silence for a moment before Muramasa asked, "How's it going out there?" 

Kotetsu shrugged. "How should I know? Everybody's just walking around, inspecting the furniture in the drawing rooms." 

"Is Lapincourt still introducing himself to everybody?" Antonio asked. 

"Last I saw," Kotetsu said. "Saying the same thing to everybody coming in the door. 'Welcome to Apollon Manor. I'm Lord Lapincourt.'" 

Muramasa swirled his drink. "I bet Kaede loved that." 

Kotetsu sighed. "She did. Although I don't think anyone else knows what to make of him." 

The whole village was here out of curiosity, if Kotetsu had to guess. Only a few of them had been in the house since the fire, and everybody was wary that Lapincourt would be more like Maverick than his parents. 

A personal greeting at the door might help some, but it wouldn't fix all those worries. Especially when too many people here were too close to losing their homes and their livelihoods. 

Kotetsu finished his drink and poured himself another. The best thing he could hope for was that even if Lapincourt hadn't had any intention of trying to help the village, meeting them all might change his mind. 

_Might_.


	4. In Which a Deal Is Made

Kaburagi's eyes were the color of whiskey. 

Barnaby had spoken to more than a hundred people at this point, talking so much that he was starting to go hoarse, and yet his mind had latched onto the few seconds he and Kaburagi had spoken with a frightening grip. 

He almost hadn't recognized him without the flat cap and with a jacket on, but then he'd spotted the beard and the memory came rushing back. 

The "Lord Bunny" had also helped. 

Of all the introductions he'd made, that was the single instance he hadn't been able to remain polite, where he couldn't help the sarcastic inquiry about the damn goose. Kaburagi hadn't seemed offended by it; if anything, he'd looked _amused_. 

Barnaby kind of hated him. 

He also very much wished he'd kept his mouth _shut_ about his wife; as soon as the question had been out of his mouth, he'd known what the answer would be. At least the conversation hadn't lasted much longer and Barnaby hadn't seen him since. 

That did not stop him from remembering that Kaburagi's eyes were a golden brown, and Barnaby did not like that he couldn't stop thinking about it. 

The party was otherwise a success, or at least as much of a success as he could've hoped for. Samantha and the others had done a marvelous job getting the house ready for guests, and if he hadn't been here the week before, Barnaby would never have guessed that it hadn't always been this way. The heavy curtains were thrown open, the sheets removed from all the furniture, everything dusted and scrubbed and cleaned to within an inch of its life, with candles and lanterns and chandeliers lighting every room. 

It was closer to the house from his memories, and Barnaby could not decide whether that was good or bad. 

Most of the village had turned up, from what Samantha had told him, and Barnaby made it his mission to speak with as many of them as he could and do his best to ease their worries about him as a baron. He couldn't guess if it was working, but nobody had turned on him yet. 

Unfortunately, most of the people from the village remembered his parents, and were not shy about telling him that. 

Too many stories for things he didn't remember, too many stories that brought up painful memories all on their own. It was good that they thought of his parents so fondly, wanted to remember them, but it was hell keeping his smile polite and unwavering for all of it. 

The other downside (less emotionally fraught, but no less wearying) was that he'd met a dozen parents with eligible daughters, whose eyes lit up with a scheming glint as soon as Barnaby admitted he was not betrothed. He'd managed to survive two Seasons without a match so far; he was determined to maintain that.

He had been making the rounds and talking to people and explaining the history of the house for hours when he finally begged off and slipped out of the main rooms. If he had to listen to one more story about his parents, had one more person push their daughter at him, he was going to snap. Just a few minutes alone, that was all he needed. A few minutes somewhere that nobody would know to find him. 

He made for the north wing. 

The entrance had been boarded up, blocked off from the rest of the house after the fire, but it was not difficult to sneak out through another wing and make his way through the gardens and around to the back of the house. He just had to keep an eye on his clothes to make sure that he didn't tear anything. It wouldn't do to return looking like he'd been dragged through the forest. 

It was almost dark enough outside that he couldn't see the black, skeletal remains of the wing arching up to the sky. Almost, because the light of the quarter moon was just enough to give contrast between the burned timber against the dark sky, the crossing boards blocking out a handful of stars. 

He could see the faint shapes of where the rooms had been, burned scraps that may have been furniture or tapestries. It no longer smelled of smoke, not after twenty years, but God, he could remember how hot it had burned, how high the flames had jumped toward the sky. It was a miracle they hadn't lost the house entirely. 

He closed his eyes against a surge of grief. He'd rip down every board of the manor himself if it meant he would have his parents back. 

Barnaby stepped into the wing, onto the stone that made up the foundation of the house. Burnt boards arced above him, standing steadfast even after so long. He'd have to be careful that none of them fell on his head. 

He walked through the north wing for the first time in two decades, struggling to remember what had been where. His parents' rooms, for certain, but what else? Another drawing room? A salon? He'd spent so little time here and it had been so long that he couldn't recall. 

Perhaps that was for the best. 

Barnaby stayed clear of the walls, uncertain as to how sturdy they were, as he walked. It was awful that the house had remained in this condition for so long. He'd been told Maverick had sent funds to repair it. Yet another thing the man had lied about. 

He picked his way through the back of the wing, out to the small garden that his mother had kept out here. It was separate from the larger gardens around the house and had never been tended to in the same way. It was always something she'd handled on her own, she and perhaps one or two trusted servants. 

A memory flashed in his mind, of her planting roses while he splashed in the small stone fountain in the center of her garden, and it was gone so quickly that Barnaby had no idea if it had really happened or if he'd made it up entirely on his own. The garden was probably either dead or overgrown now. At least nobody would be out here. 

He'd taken two steps toward the fountain when he spotted the silhouette of a man sitting on the wide stone edge of it. 

Barnaby froze. _Nobody_ should be out here; nobody should even know this existed. How had he managed to find the one place there was _someone else?_

He took a deep breath and injected his voice with as much authority as he could muster. "Who the hell are you and what are you doing on my property?" 

The man turned slightly toward him and stood. Barnaby recognized the way he moved and knew exactly whose voice he would hear before the man even said a word. 

"I thought we were all invited to a party, Lord Bunny," Kaburagi said. 

Barnaby closed his eyes. Of course. Why _wouldn't_ it be the one person at the party he couldn't stand? "The party is in the house. This is not part of the house." 

Kaburagi didn't appear to be chastened by the reminder. He shoved his hands in his pockets and tipped his head up toward the sky. "It used to be."

"It isn't now," Barnaby snapped. "What the hell are you doing out here?" 

"Heh. I could ask you the same question." 

"I asked you first," Barnaby said, and immediately cursed inwardly. What was it about this man that rendered him incapable of acting like an adult? 

Kaburagi waved his hand back toward the house. "I'm not much for parties." 

"Then why did you _come?_ " 

He shrugged. "Would've been rude not to. Besides, Kaede wanted to come." 

This was not actually raising him in Barnaby's esteem. "So you left your daughter in my house by _herself?_ " 

"She and my mother went home an hour ago," Kaburagi said. "I stayed to help my brother pack up his things after the party's over."

Barnaby was _positive_ he'd have remembered if Kaburagi's brother was here. "Your brother?" 

"Muramasa. He owns the tavern in the village. He brought all the alcohol." Kaburagi took a step closer to him. "What are _you_ doing out here? This is your party. Aren't you supposed to be greeting everybody still?"

"Everybody's already here," Barnaby pointed out, although he knew damn well he was dodging the question. "I haven't needed to greet anyone for hours." 

"Talking to everybody, then," Kaburagi said. "I think you made it around to just about everyone at least twice." 

"Then they'll all be fine for a few minutes without me," Barnaby said through gritted teeth. "Besides, this is my house. I can go where I please." 

He hated that he'd come out here for a break, hoping to have time to himself, time to _think_ before he had to get back to everything, and instead of finding quiet, he'd found someone intruding on his sanctuary. 

Kaburagi looked right at him, and even though Barnaby couldn't see his face clearly in the dark, he had a feeling the man was staring right through him. "I thought this wasn't part of the house."

"Not for anyone else," Barnaby snapped. 

To his surprise, Kaburagi just nodded and started back toward the manor. "Fair enough. I'll leave you to it, then." 

Thank God. Something about the man left him wrong-footed, and Barnaby would dearly like to be left alone to get his balance again. 

Kaburagi paused just outside the garden. "Just one question. What are you planning to do about the rents?" 

"The rents?" Barnaby repeated, dumbfounded. This was the first he'd heard about them. 

"For the villagers renting land from you. What are you planning to do about them?" 

Barnaby mentally went through the paperwork he'd seen in the past week, but he couldn't recall anything about the rents. "I hadn't planned on doing _anything_ about them."

He still couldn't see Kaburagi's face, not in the faint moonlight, but something about his stance told Barnaby that wasn't the answer he'd wanted to hear. "So you're going to leave them where they are?" 

Barnaby sighed. "Is there something wrong with where they are?" 

"They're too high." Kaburagi's voice had changed, become a little more serious, a little harsher. "They've _been_ too high. They started going up twenty years ago and they haven't stopped. People don't have enough to get by." 

Barnaby stared at him. "You want me to lower them." 

"That would be nice, yes. I own my land, but most of the others around here aren't so lucky." 

Laughing would be a terrible reaction, Barnaby knew, but it was the only one he had. He was on the precipice of losing _everything_ and this man wanted him to _reduce_ the largest source of income he had? "Are you actually mad?" 

"Excuse me?" 

Barnaby scoffed. "You have no idea what you're asking." 

"I know _exactly_ what I'm asking." Kaburagi stalked back over to him. "You haven't spent twenty years watching these people struggle to make it to the next year, the next month, the next _week_. You don't have any idea what it's been like." 

"And do you have any idea what it's been like for _me?_ " Barnaby did not quite shout, but it was a near thing. "Did you notice anything about my staff, Mr. Kaburagi, and what it should be for a house this size as opposed to what it actually _is?_ " 

Kaburagi took half a step back, like he hadn't anticipated Barnaby's reaction. "I—" 

Barnaby did not wait for an answer. "Have you also, perhaps, noticed that the north wing has never been repaired? The very wing we are currently _standing in?_ "

"Well—" 

"From these things, a reasonable person might draw the conclusion that there is not even a skeleton staff, that repairs have not been done, because there is _no money for either_."

Barnaby was angry; he was _so_ angry he fairly burned with it, and since the real target of his anger was dead, the man who was stupid enough to blunder in on him like this would have to do. "Now, perhaps you know of a method wherein _lowering_ your income actually gives you _more_ money, but I'm afraid I do not. So unless you're willing to enlighten me, I will have to leave the rents where they are. Otherwise, you'll get to have this conversation with whoever buys the estate from me." 

He clapped his mouth shut and turned away. He hadn't meant to go that far, to reveal that much, but he'd always struggled with letting his temper get the better of him. And Kaburagi was very good at poking at his sore spots, intentionally or not.

"What if your house were repaired for free?" Kaburagi asked quietly.

Barnaby laughed hoarsely. "You must be joking."

"I'm not." 

Barnaby spun back to stare at him. The handful of clouds drifting over the moon had cleared somewhat, and Kaburagi stepped enough out of the shadows of the house that Barnaby could see he was very serious indeed. 

Barnaby shook his head. "That is impossible. The cost of the materials alone—" 

"Lower the rents," Kaburagi said, "and I'll personally make sure your house gets rebuilt without any additional cost to you." 

Barnaby could only stare at him as he fought to find the words to respond. " _How?_ "

Kaburgai shrugged. "I've got some ideas."

The man _was_ mad; that was the only explanation. "Some _ideas?_ You want me to agree to this ridiculous plan based on some vague _ideas?_ You really have no clue what you're doing."

"I'm trying to help people!" 

Barnaby bristled. "I don't need your help." 

Kaburagi didn't back down. "You need someone's."

Barnaby stalked away, back to the other side of the fountain. He could not go far—not as far as he'd like—but at least he could put some distance between himself and Kaburagi. 

_You need someone's_.

He did, but there was no one around to _give_ him the help that he needed. So the only thing to do was muddle through as best he could. It galled him beyond belief that _this_ man, with his stupid beard and his stupid goose and the stupid "Lord Bunny" that he seemed intent on never giving up, could see that. 

"You own the land where most of the raw materials come from, so there's not much cost there," Kaburagi said. "And most of the carpenters and bricklayers would be willing to exchange their labor for lower rents. It'll be hard, but it's not impossible."

Barnaby swiped at his eyes and cleared his throat. "So if I lower the rents, you think you'll be able to get people to work without payment?" 

"Not everybody, but some. Enough." 

"And what about you?" 

"What about me?" Kaburagi sounded genuinely surprised at the question. 

"You said you own your land. What I do with the rents won't affect you one way or the other." Barnaby turned back to him. "What do _you_ get out of this?" 

For the first time, Kaburagi seemed stumped. "I told you already. I want to help people." 

Barnaby didn't believe it. "That's it?" 

Kaburagi frowned. "Why does there have to be anything else?"

_Because there's_ always _something else_ , Barnaby thought. He had yet to meet a person who did not have an ulterior motive, and for something like this? Something this big? Kaburagi _had_ to have one, even if Barnaby didn't know what it was. 

He closed his eyes to collect himself. Having the house repaired would be a _huge_ help; he couldn't deny that. Being able to put the funds from that toward the rest of the estate might be enough to keep them afloat for the rest of the year, even with lowered rents.

The only real question was if he could trust Kaburagi to keep his word. 

"The house needs to be repaired properly," Barnaby said. 

"Of course!" Kaburagi sounded scandalized that it was even a question. "We can't have it falling in. It'll hurt people." 

It would also cost more money to fix, but as long as they had the same goal, Barnaby did not particularly care about the man's reasoning. "If it is not, _you_ will be responsible for fixing it, in whatever manner that takes." 

"Yes?" Kaburagi said. "That _is_ what I meant when I said I'd make sure your house got rebuilt."

"It helps to have these things spelled out clearly," Barnaby said. "How quickly do you think you could have it done?" 

"Quickly?" Kaburagi glanced up at the manor and then back at Barnaby as though he were the one who'd lost his mind. "It'll take us a few months at least. Autumn would be the earliest, if we're lucky. Why?" 

Barnaby sighed. "Because I do not plan on staying any longer than is required to sort out the estate's financial matters, and I would like to have the house finished before I return to the city."

Kaburagi's mouth twisted down. "So you come back after twenty years just long enough to fix things, and then you're going to leave again?" 

"Yes. I have no intention of staying here." 

"You can't manage an estate from hundreds of miles away!" Kaburagi argued. "You can't see what the people need, what—" 

Barnaby was _not_ going to be judged for his choices by this man, of all the damned people in the world. "Plenty of people manage their estates perfectly fine from elsewhere. I have my own reasons for not wanting to stay, and I do not owe you an explanation of any of them."

Kaburagi was silent for several seconds, long enough that Barnaby wondered if he'd changed his mind. 

"Fine," Kaburagi finally said. "We'll have it done as fast as we can. I can't make any promises, though."

"As long as we're in agreement that speed is a priority," Barnaby said. "I'll have my solicitor draw up a contract for us to sign, then." 

"And you'll lower the rents?" 

"Yes." Barnaby paused and considered the math. " _Not_ to what they were twenty years ago. I don't think that's possible." 

"I'm not asking for a miracle," Kaburagi said. "I'm just asking for fair. Give people a chance to get back on their feet." 

Barnaby dusted his palms across his trousers and wondered how much he would end up regretting this. Then again, given everything else, he supposed this was far from the worst decision he'd made recently. "Fine, then." 

Kaburagi walked around to him. "So do we have an agreement?" 

Barnaby sighed. "We do."

Kaburagi held out his hand, and Barnaby shook it. 

And immediately realized his mistake. 

He'd had gloves on for most of the night, especially when he'd been greeting people, but had taken them off to eat and hadn't put them on again. And apparently Kaburagi hadn't bothered wearing gloves at all, which Barnaby felt should not surprise him in the least. 

So when he clasped Kaburagi's hand to shake it, he clasped bare skin. 

His hand was large and warm and callused along the palm and the tips of his fingers, and he shook Barnaby's hand firmly enough that Barnaby felt the imprint of all of it along his skin. The sensation sent a tingle from where their hands met all the way down his spine. 

"I'll have to talk to some people, but I'll be over here as soon as I can to start making plans for the wing," Kaburagi said. "Probably the day after tomorrow." 

"Fine." Barnaby pulled his hand away and found himself absurdly grateful for the dark, which was no doubt hiding the way his face burned. "I'll get a contract ready for you." 

Kaburagi waved the comment away and shoved his hands back in his pockets. "Yeah, yeah, you said that already. Let me know when you have it ready, Lord Bunny."

He walked back up through the wing and disappeared into the gardens, finally leaving Barnaby alone. 

Barnaby took off his glasses and wiped his face, willing his hand to stop tingling with the feeling of Kaburagi's on it. This had been the furthest thing from a break that he could've hoped for, and now _he_ had to go back inside to his guests and pretend the entire thing hadn't happened. 

He put his glasses back on, straightened his coat, and pulled his gloves out of his breast pocket, yanking them on with more force than the poor gloves required. 

Not that it mattered. His hand still tingled with the sensation of being touched, and Barnaby had a feeling it wouldn't stop any time soon.


	5. In Which Construction Begins

"You want us to do _what?_ " Antonio yelled. 

Kotetsu shushed him and glanced around the tavern. It was nearly one in the morning and nobody else was downstairs, but still, it was nearly _one in the morning._ "Quiet! People are sleeping." 

"Not _here_ ," Antonio said, but he lowered his voice. "Did you really tell Lapincourt that we'd rebuild his house for _free?_ "

Nathan sat perched on one of the barstools and arched an eyebrow in Kotetsu's direction. "I really hope you didn't indicate that _I_ would be helping." 

"I didn't say _who_." Kotetsu opened another box they'd hauled in from the party and started putting the bottles of liquor back where they belonged. "I just said that we'd help." 

Antonio crossed his arms over his massive chest. "For _free_."

Kotetsu gestured toward the town. "And how is that different from what we've been doing for the past ten years?" 

"He's the _baron_ ," Antonio said. 

"He still needs _help_ ," Kotetsu insisted. "That's what we do. We help people." 

Antonio did not look convinced. "We help the villagers. It's not the same."

Kotetsu sighed. After making his promise to Lapincourt—Lord Bunny, _heh_ —he'd talked Antonio and Keith, the vicar and the fourth member of their little group, into helping him help Muramasa so they'd have a chance to discuss it. Nathan had come along because he was the third member and, as he said, he never missed a chance to watch attractive men doing work that involved muscles. 

It _may_ have been better to wait until morning, after they'd all had some sleep, but if Lord Bunny wanted him to sign a contract, Kotetsu refused to do so until he'd talked to the people who would most likely be helping him fix the house. If there was even a chance they could get the rents lowered this way, they really should do it. It was the most permanent solution he could think of.

Keith helped Kotetsu put away the bottles, moving with a surprising amount of energy for the late hour. "I think Mr. Kaburagi is right." 

Kotetsu's eyebrows shot up. "You do?" 

Keith shrugged. "It _is_ what we've been doing, helping people. And if we help the person who can help the most people, well, then we're doing exactly what we should be doing, right?" 

Antonio scratched the back of his neck. "Well, when you put it _that_ way..." 

"That's the same way _I_ put it," Kotetsu grumbled, but not too loudly. If he had Keith and Antonio on board, the rest would be easy.

"But we can't rebuild an entire house with just the four of us," Antonio said. 

Nathan narrowed his eyes. 

"Three of us," Antonio quickly amended. 

"It doesn't have to just be us," Kotetsu said. "We can get others to help us out when they have time. I'm sure Ben will let us borrow Ivan and Pao-lin for a few weeks." 

"But it's going to be _mostly_ us," Antonio pointed out. "And it's summer. We can't just stop work for months to fix a house." 

Kotetsu got out glasses and one of the open bottles of liquor that hadn't quite been finished at the party. "We'd do it for anybody else." 

"Everybody else has _smaller houses_."

"We can ask around," Keith said optimistically. "I'm sure if people hear that Lord Lapincourt is lowering the rents, they'll be happy to help out however they can."

Kotetsu raised his glass in Keith's direction and gave Antonio a significant look. "See?" 

Antonio did not look impressed. "Why are _you_ pushing for this so hard?" 

"What, me?" Kotetsu asked. 

Antonio leaned on the bar and narrowed his eyes. "Of course, you."

"Do you have any idea how much we can help _everybody_ if the rents are lowered?" Kotetsu reminded him. "That's why I'm doing it!"

Antonio did not look entirely convinced, but he let it drop. "Fine, then. What do we need to do?" 

Kotetsu rubbed the back of his neck. "Eh, well..." 

Nathan sighed and refilled his drink. "You'll need to find the original plans for the house if you want to rebuild it properly. Failing that, you'll need to have plans _made_." He started ticking items off on his fingers. "Then you'll need to take measurements, order materials and have them delivered, and _then_ you might be ready to start building."

"I knew that," Kotetsu said, and at Nathan's skeptical look, amended, "I knew most of that. I was planning on going back to the manor to take measurements tomorrow." 

"I have some idea of where we might find the plans for the manor." Nathan sipped at his drink. "I'll talk to Miss Joubert first thing in the morning."

Keith slammed his glass on the counter. "As soon as you have that, I can talk to people about getting materials. I'm sure as soon as they realize how much it will help, they'll be happy to give us a hand!" 

"I guess I'm coming with you to get the measurements, eh, Kotetsu?" Antonio said. 

Kotetsu grinned and tapped his glass against Antonio's. "I can always use your help." 

Plans settled, they all finished their drinks before cleaning and locking up the tavern to head to their respective homes. Keith and Nathan went off in one direction, and Kotetsu and Antonio headed in the other. 

"It's late," Antonio said. "Why don't you sleep at my place?" 

Kotetsu lifted one shoulder in a shrug. "Eh, it's fine. I'm not that tired. A walk will clear my head." 

Antonio clapped him on the back. "Suit yourself."

Kotetsu waved good night when they passed the forge and Antonio veered off to the little house beside it. There _was_ a perfectly comfortable bed there, which Kotetsu had made use of many times before, but he hadn't been lying. He really wasn'ttired, and the walk home would give him some time to think. 

He breathed easier to have them all on board. It had been an instinctive decision to make the offer, to throw it out there, mostly because he knew how much everyone in their village needed the help. And if Kotetsu could find a way to get it for them, he would, no matter what it meant for him personally. 

But...

_But_. 

Always a but, huh? 

It had been dark out behind the manor, so he hadn't seen _much_ of Lord Bunny's face, but from what he could see and hear—his posture, his prickly nature, the anger in his voice—it looked like the young lord needed just as much help as anybody in the village. Sure, he could put on a good face when he was around people, enough that Kotetsu would've believe it, too, if he hadn't met him before. But alone, in those few seconds before he'd realized Kotetsu was on the fountain behind the house, he'd looked...lost. 

Kotetsu rubbed his chest, right above his heart. It was from a different source, but he knew that feeling. The weeks—the _months_ —after Tomoe's death had been some of the hardest. He'd drifted around in a fog for most of it, and the only reason he'd been able to pick himself up and find a way to keep going had been because his daughter needed _one_ of her parents. 

It didn't make it much easier, even after five years, but he knew what it was like to be lost. 

Had Lord Bunny _ever_ dealt with his grief? Or was it like his house, the front of it kept up where people could see, while the hidden parts broke down more and more every day? 

It probably wasn't any of his business. In fact, Kotetsu had been told as much, with that clipped _I don't need your help_.

But he couldn't turn off the part of him that wanted to help people however he could. And for some reason, he'd gone and developed a soft spot for Lord Bunny. Even if he _was_ a prick. 

Kotetsu shoved his hands in his pockets and turned across the moonlit fields, heading toward home. He needed to get some sleep as soon as he could; he had a feeling rest was going to be in short supply for the next few months. 

But the results would be worth it. 

He hoped.

***

Two days after the party, Barnaby woke up shortly after dawn to the loudest crash he'd ever heard in his life. It sounded like an entire wall had come down. Or maybe an entire wing.

He leapt out of bed, grabbed his glasses and a wrapper, and ran down the stairs to find Samantha and the others. If they'd been out in the north wing...if one of the walls had fallen...

Barnaby found Samantha in the kitchen, drinking tea and eating scones as if absolutely nothing were amiss, and all the worst-case scenarios his mind had been conjuring vanished immediately. 

Samantha set down her tea cup and stood immediately. "My lord, what's wrong? If you needed something, you should have rung." 

Barnaby took a deep breath so that it wouldn't sound as though he'd spent the last few minutes in a panic, especially when Samantha didn't seem to have noticed anything strange. "I heard—" 

Another astonishing crash from the rear of the house had him almost jumping out of his skin, and also saved him from having to finish the sentence. " _What_ is that infernal racket?"

"Oh! That's Mr. Kaburagi and the others. They came this morning to start repairing the north wing. He said you'd spoken about it the night of the party." Samantha held out the plate of scones. "Would you like a scone, sir?" 

"No. Thank you, Mrs. Taylor." Barnaby belatedly remembered his manners. "Others?" 

Samantha bustled around the kitchen, setting the kettle back over the fire and refilling the pot with tea leaves. "Well, there's Mr. Kaburagi, Mr. Lopez—he's the blacksmith—Mr. Goodman—our vicar—and they also brought Ivan and Miss Pao-lin, who help over at the general store with Mr. Jackson. Mr. Holt and Mr. Garrett are out there as well, helping them. I imagine Miss Seymour will be by later, Mr. Kaburagi said they'd be bringing the plans by for your review." 

Barnaby recognized precisely three names in the litany that she mentioned, although a few of the others sounded familiar, probably some he'd met at the party. "Thank you, Mrs. Taylor." 

"Shall I make you breakfast, sir?" 

"Not right now, Mrs. Taylor. I'm going to..." _find out what the hell that man is doing in my house at this hour_ "...speak to Mr. Kaburagi about the construction." 

Another massive crash resounded from the back of the house, and Barnaby decided that was as good a time as any to head that way. 

He went back upstairs to change his clothes before he walked around the house to the north wing. It was early enough there was still dew on the ground, a light fog drifting in the low places around the hills. With the sun getting higher, though, neither the fog nor the dew would be around for much longer. 

Now that he was outside, he could hear voices carrying from behind the house, not quite loud enough for him to make out anything beyond the volume of them. 

He rounded the east wing and gaped. An entire section of the north wing was now a charred pile on the ground, stripped down to the foundation. He spotted Holt and Garrett tossing another hunk of wood onto the pile, while two blond children hauled smaller pieces off to a cart tied to a bored-looking donkey. Well, perhaps not children—one of them looked quite young, but the other was almost old enough for university. 

As he got closer, he saw Kaburagi and two other men standing beside one of the back walls—or what was left of that wall—engaged in some kind of deep discussion. 

Barnaby changed his course to meet them, and halfway there, Kaburagi's eyes landed on him and his face lit up. Barnaby knew what was coming before he even opened his mouth. 

"Lord Bunny! So good of you to join us this morning!" 

The two other men—one a few inches taller than Kaburagi and built like an ox, the other a few inches shorter and almost as pale as Barnaby himself—turned at the greeting. 

Barnaby did not return the smile. "Mr. Kaburagi," he said stiffly. "Do you have any idea what time it is?" 

Kaburagi grinned in such a way that Barnaby guessed he knew damn well what time it was and had no issue with the fact that he'd started a construction project when most people would be sleeping. "I told you we'd start repairing your house as soon as we could."

"You are disturbing my staff." 

Kaburagi lifted his hat and scratched his head with his knuckles. "Huh. Mrs. Taylor was awake when we got here, and said it was fine if we started tearing things down. And Mr. Holt and Mr. Garrett are out here helping and have been all morning. Is there someone I missed?" 

Barnaby couldn't decide if the man was making fun of him for using his staff as an excuse when he was clearly the only one disturbed by the noise, or if Kaburagi was _genuinely unsure_ if he'd missed a member of the household. 

" _Kotetsu_ ," the big man beside him hissed, although whether it was a warning or something else, Barnaby couldn't say. 

"Oh, sorry!" Kaburagi said. "Have you met Keith and Antonio?"

The second name tripped something in his memory, and _now_ Barnaby could place the big man; he'd been one helping with the party, unloading the carriage from the tavern. "Ah, yes, Mr. Lopez, was it?" 

"Yes, sir," Lopez said, with another glance between him and Kaburagi. "We're sorry for disturbing you so early." 

"Yes, terribly sorry!" the smaller man—Keith, Barnaby supposed—added. "But we wanted to get started as soon as we could. We hope to have your house finished before the end of the summer." 

"We'll _try_ ," Kaburagi said, with a glance at Barnaby. "Depends on a lot of things." 

"I'm sure it does," Barnaby said dryly, before turning his attention back to the other man. "And you are?" 

"Goodman!" He grabbed Barnaby's hand and shook it. "Keith Goodman. I'm the vicar in the village. Thank you for having us." 

"I...should really be thanking you, Mr. Goodman," Barnaby said. He seemed earnest enough, if nothing else. 

"Will you be joining us on Sunday for services?" Goodman asked brightly. 

"I suppose I will be," Barnaby said. 

Goodman beamed. "Wonderful! I look forward to seeing you there." 

Lopez clapped a hand on Goodman's shoulder. "Come on, we need to get back to work." 

"Of course," Goodman said. "Wonderful to meet you, Lord Lapincourt, and thank you again!" 

Barnaby had no idea what he was being thanked _for_ , but he said "You're welcome" anyway as the other two walked off. He turned back to the house. It looked very different, to see so much of the north wing cleared away, fewer black bars crossing the blue sky. 

Barnaby didn't know how to feel about it. 

"Amazing how quickly it comes down, isn't it?" Kaburagi said quietly. 

Barnaby cleared his throat. "Not really. I imagine it's always easier to tear something down than to build it up." 

"That's true." Kaburagi shrugged. "But the building's always worth it, in the end." 

Something in the way he said it made Barnaby unsure if he was still talking about the house. He glanced sideways to gauge, but Kaburagi was squinting up at the wall beside them, one hand on his hat and the other on his hip. His shirt, Barnaby noted, was open at the collar, likely because he had planned to spend the morning tearing down wood and brick and that would ruin a neckcloth. However, that meant that Barnaby had a very clear view of the line of his throat, down to the little hollow between his collarbones, before the tanned skin disappeared into the shirt. 

He tore his gaze away and focused on something— _anything_ —else. The foundation of the wing. There, that was safe. 

"Have you drawn up the paperwork?" Kaburagi asked. 

The question necessitated looking at him again, and Barnaby did not actually process what he'd said. "What?" 

"The paperwork," Kaburagi repeated. "You had a contract you wanted me to sign. And since I'm keeping my half of the bargain," he waved at the wing and the work that had begun, "aren't you going to keep yours?" 

Barnaby was not sure which was worse: talking to Kaburagi in the dark when they were alone but he couldn't see any of his expressions, or talking to him in the daylight when they were very much _not_ alone and he could see everything. "Right. I suppose I'll take care of that, since I won't be getting any more sleep today." 

"Probably not," Kaburagi said cheerfully. "We have a lot more to tear down." 

"Wonderful," Barnaby said, although he meant anything but. "I'll leave you to it, then." 

"Aw, you won't be helping us, Lord Bunny?" 

Barnaby glared at him. "My name isn't _Bunny_ , it's—" 

"Barnaby, I remember." Kaburagi grinned. "You were _very_ cross."

There was not a single part of him that had been prepared to hear Kaburagi use his actual _name_ , and not for the first time, Barnaby cursed himself for being goaded into shouting it. "It's Lapincourt, as far as you're concerned," he snapped. "I'll be in my study. Ask Mrs. Taylor if you need anything." 

With that, he strode back to the house, hoping that if he walked quickly enough, he could outrun the knowledge that he was apparently attracted to the one man who irritated him beyond all belief.


	6. In Which They Share a Drink

Every part of Kotetsu's body hurt. Not surprising, since he'd been up at dawn to start clearing away the burned shell of Apollon Manor's north wing and hadn't left until nearly dusk, but knowing he _should_ be sore didn't make it any less painful. He'd gone home long enough for dinner and a bath, and now he was riding into the village to meet Antonio, Keith, and Nathan for a drink and some more discussion. Helping Lord Bunny was good and pretty important, when all was said and done, but they couldn't give up their usual work for the summer. 

He dismounted his horse with a groan and sent it off to the stable behind Muramasa's tavern. He was not really looking forward to having to ride back tonight, but they would be back at the manor in the morning and it would be a much shorter ride from his house. 

Kotetsu paused before heading into the tavern, stretching his legs from the ride, and spotted someone leaving Miss Joubert's office. He frowned; it was pretty late for anybody to be leaving the lawyer's office. 

He stopped when he realized it was Lord Bunny. The red coat and golden hair were unmistakable. 

Kotetsu debated leaving him alone for all of two seconds before he decided against it. The man hadn't been here in twenty years; he couldn't have many friends. And even if he wasn't planning on staying, he probably needed something to do that wasn't poring over his accounts every night. Might do him good to grab a drink with them. 

He did not think about it much more before he jogged over. "Lord Bunny!" 

The lord stopped and turned to him, green eyes sharp behind his glasses and his lips pressed thin, giving every impression of being annoyed by the interruption. His blond hair was tied back tightly at the nape of his neck. "Mr. Kaburagi. Of course." 

Kotetsu waited for the usual reaction to the nickname, but it didn't come. Interesting. "What are you doing in town?" 

Lord Bunny's gaze flicked back to the office he'd just left. "Taking care of your blasted paperwork. You can expect a visit from Miss Joubert in the next few days." 

Kotetsu's eyebrows shot up. "Does this mean you've lowered the rents?" 

"I _am_ a man of my word, and since you appear to be keeping your end of the bargain, I'll keep mine." 

Kotetsu stared at him, trying to figure out if he was lying. But no, he didn't think so. He broke out into a grin. "That's something to celebrate. Come on, you should join me for a drink." 

Lord Bunny's green eyes went wide. "Join _you_ for a drink?" 

"Well, us," Kotetsu amended quickly, and jerked his thumb over his shoulder at the tavern. "I'm meeting a few others."

The annoyed look returned, and Lord Bunny no longer looked like he'd been smacked across the face by a fish. "I appreciate your offer, but I should return home." 

"Oh, come on, just a drink or two," Kotetsu wheedled. "We're going to be working out at your house for a while, why not get to know everybody? Or at least Keith and Antonio. And Nathan, but he won't actually be working on your house. At least, not any of the physical labor." 

Lord Bunny frowned. "Nathan?" 

"Miss Seymour," Kotetsu clarified.

The frown cleared with recognition. "Oh, yes. She brought over the plans for the wing. Or...he, I suppose." 

"Oh, he doesn't mind which ones you use," Kotetsu said. "Just the Miss Seymour, if you're being formal." 

"Ah, I see." 

Kotetsu took his elbow. "Come on, join us!"

Lord Bunny looked down at his hand for a long moment, and it occurred to Kotetsu then that he'd probably been a little _too_ forward. He took his hand back. "Er, sorry about that." 

"It's all right," Lord Bunny said. "I don't want to intrude." 

"You wouldn't be intruding!" Kotetsu assured him. "They'd love to get to know you." 

That was _probably_ stretching the truth, but Lord Bunny didn't need to know that. Keith and Nathan would definitely welcome the company, anyway. 

"Besides, it's been a long day. A drink would do you some good," Kotetsu continued. "My brother's tavern has the best drinks in town." 

"Your brother's tavern is the _only_ place to get drinks in town," Lord Bunny pointed out. 

"They're still the best," Kotetsu said loyally. "If you're too busy, I understand, but if not, well, why not?" 

The severe look on his face got deeper, and Kotestu couldn't quite figure out if Lord Bunny wanted to say yes but thought he should say no, or if he was trying to think of a way to politely decline. Now was probably a good time to keep his mouth shut and wait. 

"Fine," Lord Bunny finally said, very stiffly. "I suppose one drink won't do any harm." 

"Great!" Kotetsu's instinct was to sling his arm around the man's shoulders and lead him into the tavern, but Lord Bunny didn't seem like he would like that very much. He shoved his hands into his pockets instead and nodded toward the tavern. "Come with me." 

"How difficult it will be to find my way across the street," Lord Bunny said dryly. 

Kotetsu laughed. 

The tavern was busy this time of day, as it usually was; it seemed like a good half the town turned up for drinks or supper or both. Fortunately, it was not difficult to spot Antonio and Nathan, being that Antonio was taller than almost everybody else, even sitting down, and Nathan's bright pink dress stood out among the crowd. 

Kotetsu spotted Muramasa behind the bar and waved; his brother raised a glass in acknowledgement and then raised an eyebrow in question. 

The question, Kotetsu ignored, and he grabbed Lord Bunny by the arm instead to lead him over to the table. Nathan spotted them first, and his eyes doubled in size and he kicked Antonio under the table. 

Antonio cursed loud enough for Kotetsu to hear it. "What was _that_ for?" 

"Clear an extra space, darling," Nathan said. "We have company." 

"What do you mean, we have—" Antonio turned and his mouth dropped open. "Lord Lapincourt!" 

"Mr. Lopez," Lord Bunny said stiffly. "Miss Seymour. Mr. Kaburagi invited me to join you for a drink." 

Nathan batted his eyelashes. "Please, by all means."

Kotetsu gave them all his best _please don't kill me_ smile and pulled an extra chair up to the table. "Is Keith here yet?" 

"Uh, on his way," Antonio said. He'd moved over to make room at the table, but he still hadn't taken his eyes off Lord Bunny. 

Lord Bunny sat very stiffly in the offered chair. "Thank you." 

Nathan propped his chin in his hand. "So what brings you into town, Lord Lapincourt?" 

"I had some urgent paperwork that needed to be handled," Lord Bunny said. "That's all." 

Nathan nodded sagely, as though he knew anything about how a barony was run. "Ah, you must have a lot of paperwork to handle." 

"More at the moment than usual," Lord Bunny said. "There's a lot to take care of in the transfer of an estate."

Nathan and Antonio shared a look. "Transfer?" Antonio said. 

"I simply mean from my guardian handling the barony's affairs to me handling them," Lord Bunny said with a small, polite smile. 

Kotetsu frowned. "Shouldn't that have been handled before now?" 

Lord Bunny gave him an icy look. "It wasn't." 

All right, Kotetsu could recognize a warning to back off when he heard one. It was even odds as to whether he'd _listen_ , but he could recognize it, at least. 

In this case, he decided it was probably better to listen. No sense in bringing up Nathan's gossip in the middle of the tavern. 

So instead of pressing, he stood up. "Let me get you a drink. What'll you have? Ale? Whiskey?" 

Bunny eyed the bar. "I don't suppose there's any rosé wine." 

Kotetsu knew the tavern's offerings inside and out. He scratched the back of his head. "Uh, well—" 

"It's all right." Bunny looked down at the table. "I'll have whatever you're having." 

Kotetsu nodded and went to get them both an ale. This wasn't really an area where people drank a lot of wine, least of all the fancy wines Lord Bunny probably favored. He wondered if Muramasa might carry some occasionally. Well, Kotetsu could ask, at least. 

His brother was, as usual, behind the bar. Unlike usual, Muramasa didn't look too happy about it. "Kotetsu, what are you doing?" 

Kotetsu gestured over at the table he'd just left. "Having a drink with some friends." 

Muramasa did not look like he believed a word of it. "So you just invited the baron along?" 

"Why not?" Kotetsu shrugged. "It looked like he could use a drink." 

Muramasa sighed and poured the beers, and slid the mugs across the counter to Kotetsu. "He's not like his parents." 

"None of us have any idea what he's like," Kotetsu pointed out. "He's been away for twenty years." 

Muramasa leaned across the counter and lowered his voice. "And raised by a man who's been crushing our town under his boot for that time. Be _careful_." 

"I'm always careful!" Kotetsu protested. 

Muramasa rolled his eyes. "Not even close. Do you want supper, or just drinks?" 

Kotetsu glanced back at the table. "Just the drinks, I think." 

"All right." Muramasa frowned at him. "Stay out of trouble."

Kotetsu raised one of the mugs in acknowledgement and took them back to the table. He could understand Muramasa's concern; he _could_. Kotetsu knew he had a tendency to see the best in people and he also tended to trust pretty quickly, qualities which made it easy for people to take advantage of him. And since their father had died when Kotetsu was too young to remember it, Muramasa had been the one looking out for him. 

But it had been years since Kotetsu had been naïve enough to be taken advantage of like that, and he'd gotten a lot better about listening to his instincts. While he wasn't _always_ right about people, he was usually close enough. 

Said instincts were telling him that Lord Bunny was in desperate need of both friends and help and, fortunately, Kotetsu was in a position to provide both. Well, the help, at least. He might not be able to force people to make friends, but he could give Lord Bunny the chance to meet people. That was close enough. 

He squeezed back into his seat between Lord Bunny and Antonio and set the beers on the table with a wide grin. "Here you go. Our local specialty." 

Lord Bunny raised an eyebrow, first at the beer, then at Kotetsu. "Really?" 

"I grow the hops, Muramasa does the brewing," Kotetsu said. "The brewery's behind the tavern."

Nathan scoffed. "And this isn't one of the experimental batches, is it?" 

"No! Wait." Kotetsu sniffed his ale and took a sip. "No, definitely not." 

"Experimental batches?" Lord Bunny asked with some trepidation. 

"We like to try new things out with some of our beers," Kotetsu said. "But we don't make it available to the public until we're happy with it." 

"He means 'when it's reliably drinkable,'" Nathan stage-whispered to Lord Bunny. 

"Which means we don't get too many new batches," Antonio added. 

Kotetsu scowled at both of them. "Keep complaining, and I won't ask you to taste-test anymore." 

"Oh no," Antonio said dryly, "how will I live." 

"Hey, _you're_ the one who suggested lavender for the last batch," Kotetsu reminded him.

Nathan gasped theatrically and his eyes went wide. "That was _your_ idea?" 

"I was _joking!_ " Antonio protested. 

Kotetsu couldn't help a glance at Lord Bunny to see his reactions, but the lord just sipped his beer and didn't seem to react at all. No, wait. It may have been his imagination, but Kotetsu could swear Bunny had the tiniest smile behind his mug. Nobody else might have noticed it, but it was just enough to soften his features in a way Kotetsu hadn't seen from him at all, not even when Bunny had been introducing himself with a smile to everybody in the town. 

He looked away before Bunny could catch him staring. The smile was so small, he didn't think anybody else was supposed to see it.

Thankfully, Keith strode in right then, pausing to shake hands and exchange greetings with just about everybody between the entrance of the tavern and their table. Even so, he made it over to them quickly. "Good evening, everyone—oh, Lord Lapincourt! What an unexpected surprise!" 

"Kotestu invited him," Antonio said. 

Keith grabbed Bunny's free hand in both of his and shook heartily. "Good of you to join us, so _good_ of you to join us!" 

Lord Bunny looked a little taken aback. "Thank you, Mr. Goodman?" 

Kotetsu kicked the fifth chair out from under the table. "Take a seat, Keith, and tell us what you've got." 

"Ah..." Keith took his seat, but didn't start talking. Instead, he glanced from Kotetsu to Bunny and back again. 

Oh. Yeah. They hadn't really _brought_ anybody else into their group since they'd started this ten years ago, and even so, it wasn't exactly something you'd consider bringing the _baron_ into. 

But Kotetsu went with his instincts. "It's all right." 

"What's all right?" Bunny asked. 

"You'll see," Kotetsu said, and nodded at Keith again. 

Keith reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a few scraps of paper. "We have just two this week. Mrs. Penny, the widow with the cottage just outside town, and the Sanderson family." 

"Mmm." Antonio's brow furrowed and he picked up his drink. "The Sandersons have been on here a lot more recently." 

"Well, with Bertie getting injured last month, it's not too surprising," Nathan said. 

"They were on our list before that," Antonio said quietly. 

Kotetsu sat forward. "Most of the town has been on our list at one point or another. Let's just focus on what we can do, yeah? Keith, what do they need?" 

Keith flicked through his papers. "The usual. Food the most, and the oldest needs a pair of shoes. He's growing like a weed, Mrs. Sanderson says. She can barely keep his clothes mended." 

Kotetsu sighed and drank more of his beer. "Shoes are hard. Think we can get Ben to slip a pair into the Sandersons' next purchase at the shop?" 

Nathan smiled. "Leave it to me. Shoes and clothes _are_ my specialty, after all." 

"And I'll make sure their account has a little extra in it this month," Kotetsu said. "That should help some." 

Not as much as they needed—the Sandersons had six mouths to feed in addition to the parents—but it should be enough to get them through the month. And then, well, they'd see where they were. Hopefully by then, Mr. Sanderson would be well enough to be working again. 

Bunny frowned at them over the rim of his mug. "So what are you doing?" 

"Some of the people in the town are struggling," Kotetsu explained. "We help them out where we can." 

"By buying them shoes?" Lord Bunny sounded skeptical. 

"Sometimes. Depends on what they need." Kotetsu shrugged. "Speaking of, what does Mrs. Penny need this time?" 

Keith hesitated just long enough that Kotetsu knew it wasn't going to be an easy one. "A way to keep her house." 

Damn it. That was going to be a lot trickier than having Ben claim a credit on Mrs. Sanderson's account or slipping a pair of shoes into one of her baskets. They could trade off paying some of Mrs. Penny's rent, _had_ been trading it off since Mr. Penny had passed six months ago, but there was only so long that could last. For all that they were—mostly—secure enough to help others, there were still too many people and too little funds to go around. 

"We can pay the rent again," Antonio said slowly, but his tone said even he wasn't sure if that was the best course. 

Keith shook his head. "She's fallen far enough behind that I'm not sure we can come up with enough to pay the back rent as well." 

Kotetsu cursed under his breath. So much for _that_ hope. 

"Who is Mrs. Penny?" Lord Bunny asked. "I don't remember her name." 

"She wasn't at the party," Nathan said. "She doesn't get out as much since it's harder for her to get around. Her husband passed earlier this year and she's gotten out even less since." 

Lord Bunny nodded held out his hand. "May I?" 

Keith glanced at Kotetsu, and Kotetsu shrugged. If Lord Bunny wanted to look at the papers, he was welcome to. There wasn't too much on there that wasn't common knowledge. 

Keith passed over the paper with Mrs. Penny's information on it, and Lord Bunny glanced it over and tucked it into his pocket. The slight softness from the hidden smile was gone, replaced with the sternness Kotetsu was more used to seeing. 

No, wait, that wasn't stern. That was...cold. Something more was wrong. 

Lord Bunny pushed his chair back. "Thank you for the drink, gentlemen. I'm afraid I have to be going now. Have a good evening." 

With that, he was walking stiffly through the tavern, straight toward the door. 

"What's wrong with him?" Antonio asked. 

Kotetsu jumped to his feet and wove through the crowd to find out the answer to that very question. 

He found the lord halfway to the stables already, those long legs of his eating up the distance now that he didn't have to dodge tables and chairs. "Hey, Lord Bunny!" 

Bunny whirled on him, eyes snapping. "I've told you a thousand times, that is _not_ my name. It's Lapincourt. It can't be that difficult for you to remember."

Kotetsu decided to ignore that. "Why'd you run off?"

"I told you, I need to be getting home. I shouldn't have stopped for a drink in the first place," Bunny said, in the same too-fast, too-short tone that he'd used by the fountain. 

Kotetsu eyed the sun. It was getting low, but it wasn't that late. "You didn't finish your drink." 

"I don't need to finish my drink to leave. Go back to your friends, Mr. Kaburagi, and leave me alone." 

"What's got you so angry?" Kotetsu asked. "Is it Mrs. Penny? It'll be all right. We'll figure something out. We always do." 

Lord Bunny fisted his hands, and for a split second, Kotetsu genuinely believed he was about to get punched. 

"How long have you been doing that?" Bunny asked instead. 

Kotetsu frowned. "Doing what?" 

Bunny jabbed a finger back toward the tavern. " _That_. Getting together to discuss what kind of help people need. How long have you been doing _that_?"

Kotetsu scratched the back of his head. "Ten years, give or take?" 

Lord Bunny cursed under his breath. "Ten years. Why?" 

Why had it taken them so long or why were they still doing it, ten years later? "Because people needed help and we were finally in a position that we could do something."

"And why did people need help?" 

"Because the rents were going up and—" 

Bunny's face grew dark, and Kotetsu immediately cut himself off. 

"Because I wasn't doing my job," Lord Bunny finished for him. 

Kotetsu did the math. "Ten years ago, you were still a child."

"I'm not now," Bunny snapped. "I haven't been for years. And these people...this town is _my_ responsibility. My duty. And I haven't been doing it." 

"I'm not going to blame you for that," Kotetsu said quietly. 

"I wish you would." 

The words were so quiet and quick that, if it hadn't been for the relative silence in the stable yard, Kotetsu might not have heard them. But he did.

And before he could sort out what to _say_ to that, Lord Bunny mounted his horse and rode away.


	7. In Which a Baron Helps Out

Barnaby returned to the house just after sunset. The ride from the town to Apollon Manor was not a long one, but he'd taken his time and a few detours to clear his head. 

It was a foolish thing to be upset about. Kaburagi and the others were helping people; that wasn't a bad thing. In fact, it was a very kind, selfless thing for them to be doing, to have _continued_ doing over the past decade even when they must also have been struggling themselves at times.

However, no matter how kind it was, it _was_ a reminder of how badly Barnaby had failed, of how many people had been suffering—had been suffering for _years_ —because he'd been content to let Maverick handle things rather than standing up to take his proper place as baron. He'd assumed Maverick was doing a good job, assumed there was time for him to learn the ropes and take over eventually. 

Just another example of how foolish he'd been. 

Barnaby took the paper with Mrs. Penny's name and information on it out of his pocket. A widow, Miss Seymour had said, who didn't have the means to support herself now that her husband had passed, and she was in danger of losing her home. 

How many others were like her? How many other families, or widows, or widowers, or _orphans_ were in danger of losing their homes or their livelihoods because of him? 

He crumpled the paper and shoved it back in his pocket. He'd fix it. Somehow, he'd fix it. Maybe it was too little, too late, but he'd be damned if he'd do _nothing_. Barnaby had spent the better part of his adulthood doing nothing, trusting the wrong people, and look where that had gotten him. The absolute _least_ he could do was try to do _something_. 

Maybe it wouldn't fix everything, but it would be a start. And a start was really all he could ask for.

***

Early the next morning, Kotetsu made his way back out to Apollon Manor to meet the others and finish tearing down the rest of the north wing. He was still sore from all the work yesterday, and had a feeling "sore in muscles he didn't know he had" would be his default state for the next few months. 

Keith and Antonio weren't there yet; given the time, Kotetsu didn't expect them for another ten minutes at least. Pao-lin and Ivan would most likely be with them, but at least Holt and Garrett were here to help him get started. One more good day's work demolishing what remained of the old wing, and they'd have the whole thing ready to rebuild and repair. 

Kotestu strode around to the north wing and spotted two figures already at work hauling wheelbarrows full of debris over to the carts. Holt and Garrett, from the look of it. That was good; the more they got done early, the less they had to do when the sun was high in the sky. 

He waved to them both when he got closer and started tearing boards down himself. Maybe they'd be lucky enough to finish most of this in the morning, and then they could take a break for the rest of the day. 

Kotetsu had barely been at work for ten minutes when he heard brisk footsteps approaching. Too fast to be Keith, too light to be Antonio, too measured to be Pao-lin or Ivan, which meant—

"Mr. Kaburagi." 

Kotetsu grinned and turned around. "Lord Bunny! What brings you out here?" 

He then registered that Lord Bunny was not wearing his usual red jacket, or a waistcoat, or a neckcloth, or anything that he usually wore. In fact, he had on only a shirt and a pair of trousers and what looked to be a sturdy pair of boots. His hair was tied back, as usual, but not as slick, with a handful of blond curls escaping the tie to frame his face. 

Kotetsu very much wanted to pull the tie out just to see what those curls would feel like between his fingers. 

Lord Bunny gave him a very familiar exasperated look. "Did you even hear me, Mr. Kaburagi?" 

Kotetsu jerked his mind back to the matter at hand. He'd technically heard Lord Bunny speak, yes, but damned if he could remember what the words had been. "Eh, yes!" 

"Then where will you have me start?" 

Kotetsu frowned. "Start?" 

Lord Bunny exhaled sharply. "I told you, I'm here to help. What do I need to do?" 

"Help?" Kotetsu repeated, and realized belatedly that was not the best thing to have said. "Wait, you want to help with _this?_ "

"It's my house," Bunny said. "I should help." 

Kotetsu scratched the back of his neck. "Uh, you know this isn't like sitting in your office and going through paperwork, right?" 

Bunny's green gaze went flinty. "Are you saying you don't think I can handle it?"

"No!" Kotetsu said quickly. "But it's going to be hot and messy and you'll be sore in places you didn't know could be sore." 

"I think I'll survive," Bunny said flatly. "Now, where should I start?" 

"This wasn't part of the agreement," Kotetsu reminded him. "You don't have to." 

"Again, Mr. Kaburagi, this is _my house_ ," Bunny snapped. "If anybody should be spending their time putting it back together, it should be me." 

Kotetsu's initial instinct was to argue again, as it always was, but they were just tearing down walls and throwing away old wood right now. The only experience Bunny would need was the common sense not to stand where the wall was coming down, and Kotetsu was reasonably sure he had _that_ , at least. Besides, after one day of this, he'd probably have had enough. 

"All right," Kotetsu finally said. "Sure, you can help out. But we'll need to get you some work gloves." 

"I have gloves upstairs," Bunny said. 

Kotetsu shook his head. " _Work_ gloves. Like these." He held up his hands. "Something thick enough that you won't get splinters from the wood or a nail through your hand. Don't suppose you have any of those upstairs?" 

From the glare Lord Bunny gave him, Kotetsu guessed the answer was no. 

He took off his own gloves and handed them over. "Here. Use these." 

Lord Bunny's eyes widened. "But...what about you?" 

Kotetsu waved the concern away. "I'll get another pair when Antonio and Keith get here. Besides, I'm guessing my hands are a little more used to physical labor than yours." 

Lord Bunny's gaze dropped briefly to his hands, as if he were trying to figure out whether Kotetsu was telling the truth about that. He cleared his throat. "Very well. What are we doing?" 

Kotetsu gestured around at the boards that still needed to come down. "Everything here needs to get torn down and hauled to a wheelbarrow or to the carts over there." 

Lord Bunny nodded resolutely. "Very well," he said, and promptly grabbed the nearest board and started dragging it away. 

Kotetsu debated telling him to start smaller, but what the hell. If the lord wanted to work on the house, he could work on the house. 

Besides, they could always use another pair of hands.

***

Barnaby did not want to admit it, even to himself, but it seemed like Kaburagi had been right. His shirt was soaked through with sweat, and his hair was plastered to his neck and the sides of his face. His arms and legs and back all ached with the repetitive motion. And the soot from the old boards had nearly ruined his shirt and trousers. He was grateful he'd thought to wear the sturdiest pair of boots he owned, because otherwise they'd have been ruined, too. 

It hadn't been quite so bad earlier in the day, when the sun wasn't so high, but as the morning went on the heat got worse. But every time Barnaby considered quitting, he glanced over at Kaburagi or Goodman or Lopez, and his determination solidified again. If they were going to work this hard on his house, then so was he. 

He could help fix this, damn it.

He wasn't sure how long they'd been out there when Kaburagi came up to him with a bucket of water and a ladle. "Here, have a drink." 

Barnaby straightened from the armload of wood he'd been about to pick up and accepted the ladle. He didn't realize how thirsty he was until he took a sip, and then downed the entire thing in one swallow and went back for another drink. 

"You might want to pour some on your head, too," Kaburagi said. "You look like a tomato." 

Barnaby narrowed his eyes, but took off his glasses and swiped some water over his face and the back of his neck, wincing at how hot his skin felt. He was definitely burned. He'd need to find a hat or something for the future. 

He handed the ladle back to Kaburagi, who plunged it into the bucket and immediately dumped the entire ladleful of water on his head. It ran down his face and neck in rivulets, soaking the collar of his shirt. 

Barnaby had to make himself look away so he wouldn't stare. "So you're just wasting water?" 

"In this heat? Trust me, it's not a waste." Kaburagi eyed him speculatively, and then dunked the ladle back into the bucket. 

Barnaby frowned at him. "What are you—" 

Kaburagi moved toward him with the ladle up.

Barnaby shot out an arm to stop him, but he wasn't fast enough. The cold water splashed over his head and face and down the front of his shirt. 

He narrowed his eyes, took off his glasses, and cleaned them on the scrap of his shirt that wasn't soaked. When he put them back on, he could see Kaburagi giving him that annoyingly attractive smile. 

"What," Barnaby infused as much ice in his tone as he could, "was that for." 

If Kaburagi noticed his irritation, it didn't show on his face. "You looked like you could use some cooling off." He tapped the ladle against the bucket. "There's more where that came from." 

Barnaby tensed, prepared for a fight. "If you dump another ladle of water on my head, I will make _sure_ you regret it." 

Kaburagi just raised an eyebrow at him. "Oh, yeah? And how are you going to do _that?_ " 

Barnaby had not actually expected that response, although given everything he'd learned about Kaburagi over the past week, he felt like he should have. He didn't _have_ a response, but the challenge in Kaburagi's eyes made him want to rise to it. 

"Kotetsu!" Lopez yelled from the other side of the wing. "Stop hogging the water and get back to work!" 

"I'm taking a break!" Kaburagi yelled back, but he dropped the ladle back into the bucket. "Did you want any more to drink?" 

Barnaby shook his head. "No, thank you." 

"All right, then," Kaburagi said. "Don't forget to drink. Especially in this heat. Can't have you passing out on us on your first day."

"I will be _fine_ ," Barnaby snapped. "Mr. Lopez is right. We should get back to work. And you should stop worrying about me." 

Kaburagi sent the bucket on the ground nearby. "Someone's got to." 

Before Barnaby could respond, Kaburagi was striding across the wing to where Lopez and Goodman were working. 

Barnaby sighed and swiped a sleeve over his forehead. He did not want to admit it, but the water _had_ cooled him down. Kaburagi had been right about that as well. 

He glanced up just long enough to see the man in question hefting a huge piece of wood over his shoulder, and immediately looked down again. The heat on the back of his neck was just from the sun. Barnaby would definitely have to get some kind of hat tomorrow. 

He looked around the remains of the north wing. Truly remains, now, since most of the burned wood and brick had been hauled away. The foundation and a handful of salvaged items were all that was left of the scar that had been carved on to that side of the house for years. 

Barnaby shaded his eyes and regarded the area. How long would it take to rebuild? Could they even finish it before the year was out, let alone the summer? It seemed far too much work. 

And yet, it was work that needed to be done. And he'd be damned if he let it go another twenty years without happening.

***

Kotetsu had been positive Lord Bunny wouldn't last the whole first day helping them. Then, he'd been convinced the lord wouldn't show up the next morning. When he'd proven Kotetsu wrong on both counts, Kotetsu stopped making mental wagers with himself and waited to see how long the lord would last. 

Now it had been nearly three full weeks of work on the manor, and Lord Bunny had been there first thing every morning, usually already working by the time Kotetsu arrived. Sometimes he worked the entire day, other days he disappeared after noon to handle other business affairs, but so far he hadn't missed a single day. 

It was later than usual when they called off work for the day, but they'd managed to get the entire wood frame raised for the wing and that was cause for celebration. Nathan and Miss Lyle had brought a picnic for everybody and Mrs. Taylor set out blankets on the front lawn, since none of them were fit company for a proper supper. (Kotetsu _usually_ wasn't fit company for a proper supper, but it was worse after working outside in the heat all day with no time to wash up.)

Kotetsu gathered a plate of food for himself and dropped onto the blanket next to Lord Bunny. "I'm impressed." 

Lord Bunny frowned at him. "That doesn't seem like it would be difficult." 

Kotetsu kicked his boot. "I didn't think you'd last a day, let alone three weeks." 

The frown deepened, and Bunny looked down at his food. "I told you the first day, it's my house. What kind of person would I be if I didn't at least try to help fix it?" 

Kotetsu took a bite and chewed thoughtfully. "You'd be a normal lord? I haven't met many, but I've heard most of them don't like physical labor." 

"It's not about if I like it," Bunny said. "It's about responsibility. This house is just as much my responsibility as the rest of the barony."

That word again, _responsibility_. Bunny seemed to take it very seriously. Or maybe it wasn't that so much as he _hadn't_ taken it seriously before, and now he was taking it _very_ seriously to make up for it. 

Which reminded him. "You know, Mrs. Penny came up to Keith after services on Sunday." 

Bunny seemed suddenly very interested in his food. "Did she?" 

"Yeah." Kotetsu took another bite before he continued. "Apparently she owns her house now. Miss Joubert delivered the deed Friday evening." 

"That's a good thing, isn't it?" Lord Bunny said. "Mrs. Penny was one of the people you had on your list to help." 

Kotetsu grinned. "Yeah, she was. And now, thanks to some _mysterious benefactor_ , she's not anymore." 

Lord Bunny didn't look at him. "Then that sounds like a good thing." 

He wasn't going to admit it. Kotetsu grinned wider. "It's a very good thing, Lord Bunny. A very _kind_ thing."

"It's practical," Lord Bunny said. "It doesn't do any good to put an old woman out into the street. And the house is only hers until she passes away. At that point, it reverts back to the barony." 

Kotetsu propped his chin on his hand. "You're pretty soft, aren't you?" 

At that, Lord Bunny glared at him. "I am _not_." 

"That's not a bad thing," Kotetsu pointed out. "It's good to care about people." 

"I told you, it was practical," Bunny said. "That's all there is to it. Quit talking about it." 

Kotetsu rolled his eyes and went back to his food. Lord Bunny could protest all he wanted; it was _still_ a kind thing to do. His hunch had been right; the young lord was more like his parents than he was like Maverick. 

"The wing seems to be coming along nicely so far," Lord Bunny said.

"Eh?" Kotetsu frowned. "What do you mean?" 

Lord Bunny gestured toward the north wing, a skeleton once again, but this one solid and strong. It probably wouldn't be quite the same as it had been before, Kotetsu thought, but at least they were making progress. Pretty good progress, all things considered. 

"Ah, yeah." Kotestu rubbed the back of his neck. "We're getting there." 

"I...appreciate it," Lord Bunny said, as if the words were being forcibly pulled from his mouth. "You've done a good job with it so far." 

Kotetsu thought he might fall over. "Lord Bunny, was that a _compliment?_ "

"An acknowledgement that the work is going well is hardly a compliment," Bunny said. "Don't let it go to your head."

It was the nicest thing Lord Bunny had said to him since they'd met; Kotetsu was _absolutely_ letting it go to his head. "You've done a good job so far, too. And I don't just mean the house." 

If he hadn't been looking, he'd probably have missed the way Lord Bunny's shoulders tensed, and the way he deliberately lowered them, as though he was trying _not_ to look tense. "It's much too soon to make any determinations about that." 

"Nah." Kotetsu lay back on the blanket and looked up at the darkening sky. The sun hadn't gone down just yet, but he could already see a few stars toward the east. "My instincts are good about people. I'm never wrong." 

Lord Bunny glanced back at him. "I find _that_ difficult to believe." 

Kotetsu shrugged and linked his fingers behind his head. "It's true." It wasn't, but Bunny didn't need to know that.

Lord Bunny scoffed again and went back to his dinner. 

He didn't _look_ much like a lord right now, not with his curly hair falling out of its queue and the red across his nose and cheeks. A wide-brimmed hat had protected him from the worst of the sun, but his pale skin had still burned from working outside all day. 

No, sitting on a picnic blanket with a dirty shirt and messy hair and _still_ trying to eat properly, he looked...surprisingly ordinary, and a far cry from the stiff, snooty lord Kotetsu had come across on the road just a few short weeks ago. 

Something deep in his chest panged, and Kotetsu rubbed it idly. Lord Bunny _was_ a bit of a prick, yes, but he also cared about people. He just didn't know how to go about showing it. That was all right; there wasn't anything wrong with being awkward. 

Kotetsu's instincts on people may not always have been right, but in this case, he had a feeling they were spot on.


	8. In Which There Is an Interrogation

Although getting the frame up was a huge milestone, the work was still nowhere near finished. Barnaby was getting up just after dawn every morning and going to bed near midnight every night. When he wasn't outside helping with construction on the wing, he was in his office, responding to letters and sending off payments when he couldn't plead his way into a delay. There was still more money going out than there was coming in. He hoped the beginning of the month would help with that; otherwise he was going to need to get creative. 

On the bright side—if there could be a bright side to all this mess—the townspeople seemed to be happy about the adjustment in the rents, judging by the number of eggs, vegetables, and yarn Barnaby now found himself the recipient of. Three days after he'd given her the house, Mrs. Penny had left an entire basket of jams and jellies with Samantha by way of thanks. At least he was saving a bit of money on food, when all was said and done. 

Barnaby found he much preferred the physicality of construction than he did the paperwork in his office. Yes, it meant he spent most of the day sore and sweaty and sunburned, and he was beyond exhausted when he collapsed into bed at night, but he could see progress. He felt like he'd _done_ something. The same couldn't be said of dealing with paperwork, no matter how important he knew it was. 

It also did not hurt that spending time working on the north wing meant spending time with Kaburagi. Barnaby was self-aware enough to recognize his attraction, even though he had no intention of doing anything about it, and it was both a blessing and a curse to have Kaburagi around as much as he was. A blessing, because the man was a hard worker and knew what he was doing, and without him, Barnaby knew this project wouldn't be half as far along as it was, if it would have even ever started at all. And a curse, because Kaburagi could be astoundingly annoying. He absolutely _lived_ to needle Barnaby whenever he got the chance, and Barnaby could not stop himself from snapping back every time. Not that it ever appeared to bother Kaburagi when he did; in fact, he usually grinned in response. 

And oh, that grin was dangerous. Broad and open and honest, it always made Barnaby's heart beat faster, hooking into his chest and drawing him closer. He _liked_ seeing it, more than he should. This attraction wasn't something that could go anywhere for a number of reasons, not the least of which was Barnaby's status as baron. 

Which, he could admit to himself privately, was another reason that he did not dislike spending time around Kaburagi. He treated Barnaby like an equal, like a...well, perhaps not a _friend_ , but as an acquaintance who might be a friend at some point. Barnaby could not remember the last time someone had treated him like that. Most people here treated him as the baron first, all of them well aware that he had the power to make their lives easier or harder on a whim. And in the city, hierarchy was everywhere, always someone above or below you, always an ulterior motive in a conversation. 

Kaburagi did not seem to notice this, or if he did, he did not care. Barnaby had begun to suspect he did not even know the definition of the phrase "ulterior motive." There was absolutely no artifice to him, no façade; he was precisely as he appeared to be. Barnaby had never met anyone like him before, which probably explained at least part of the attraction. Kaburagi was different, and that intrigued Barnaby in an entirely unexpected way. Enough that he did not mind—much—spending hours each day in the hot sun while they worked together. 

Today they were on the outside of the wing, laying the brick while most of the others were working on the inside. 

"Have you done this much?" Barnaby asked. 

"Lots of times." Kaburagi swiped an arm across his forehead and then added more mortar to the bricks. "It's been a few years, though. Last time was when we had to rebuild part of Antonio's house." 

"What happened?" 

"Storm knocked down a tree, which knocked down a wall at the forge." Kaburagi set two more bricks and grinned up at Barnaby. "Have you ever done this before?" 

Barnaby rolled his eyes and swiped the sweat off his own forehead; it was nearly midday and he'd been able to feel his back baking for the last two hours. "Oh, yes, it was one of the classes we had at university, between mathematics and Latin. Brick-laying." 

Kaburagi laughed out loud at that. It made something warm curl up in Barnaby's chest. "Was it one of your easier classes? Did you get full marks in the different types of stones?" 

"Of course," Barnaby said primly.

Kaburagi shook his head and smiled. "Don't know why I expected anything else." 

Barnaby's sleeve got caught in the mortar for the third time, and he swore under his breath and rolled up his sleeves. It meant that his arms would be burned by the end of the hour, but at least it would keep the bricks cleaner and he'd work faster. 

He'd laid another three bricks before he noticed that Kaburagi was staring at him. Barnaby looked over and raised an eyebrow. "Is something wrong?" 

Kaburagi gave himself a shake. "Er, no. Just, you're not worried about a sunburn?" 

Barnaby shrugged. "It can't be helped. The sleeves are getting in the way. It's either this or take the shirt off entirely, and _that_ would be even worse." 

Kaburagi coughed. "Yeah, it would. Do you need a drink? I think I need a drink." 

"Bring it back over here," Barnaby said. "We need to finish this stretch before dinner." 

Kaburagi got to his feet. "Yeah, yeah, I'll bring it right back over." 

He walked away more quickly than normal. Barnaby briefly frowned after him, and then shrugged and went back to the bricks. If Kaburagi was behaving oddly, it was no concern of his. The only concern he needed to have right now was the bricks. 

Barnaby looked at the length of the wall left and sighed. They were going to be at this a very long time.

***

At the end of the week, the north wing looked more like an actual wing, taking shape with wood and plaster and brick and mortar. It was much more than Barnaby had thought he would have when he'd first returned to Apollon Manor and made that ridiculous bargain with Kaburagi.

Kaburagi caught up with him before he'd made it halfway back to his house, where there would be a bath and dinner waiting for him. "We're going to the tavern again for a drink. Why don't you come with us?" 

Barnaby stared at him. "I'm hardly dressed for drinks." 

Kaburagi waved off the objection. "Ah, come on, you won't be the only one there after a long day of work. Just put on a jacket." 

Barnaby continued to stare at him, and this time made sure Kaburagi saw he did not think that comment was funny. He very deliberately looked down at his shirt, which was still soaked through with sweat and streaked with dirt and mortar. "Thank you. I think I will have to pass on your generous offer."

"Nobody will mind," Kaburagi said. 

" _I_ will mind." 

"Then join us after you've changed." Kaburagi grinned that damnable, charming grin. "Just one drink with us, Lord Bunny, to celebrate a good week of work." 

Barnaby knew what he ought to say. He _ought_ to say no, because he needed a bath and he had more paperwork to handle and if he stayed out until all hours with Kaburagi and Lopez and Goodman, he would regret it severely in the morning, especially if he ended up having to complete more paperwork on the one day each week they _weren't_ working on the house. 

But there was that grin, and Barnaby did not have half the resistance to it that he should. 

"Very well," he said stiffly. "I'll meet you at the tavern after I've changed." 

Kaburagi's grin got brighter, if that were even possible. "See you there, Bunny." 

He trotted off down the road toward his own house, with one last wave over his shoulder. 

Barnaby took off his glasses and rubbed his face. He wasn't sure when in the past few weeks that ridiculous nickname had gone from sounding mocking to sounding almost...affectionate. Or perhaps he was just projecting his own complicated feelings. 

The latter seemed much more likely. 

He put his glasses back on and went inside to get ready. If he was going to join them for drinks, he wasn't going to be late.

***

It was not quite dusk when Barnaby rode into town. Rode on his own, on a horse, because he didn't intend to drink enough to make riding back home an issue.

The tavern was just as busy as it had been the previous time he'd followed Kaburagi in for a drink—Barnaby was reasonably sure, in fact, that most of the people in here now had been here then—and smelled just as much of food and alcohol and sweat as it had before. 

And, just as before, Kaburagi was at a small table with Lopez, Goodman, and Miss Seymour, all crowded around the scarred tabletop and already well into what looked like their first round.

Barnaby took one moment to steady himself before he crossed the room to join them, scooting his way past the other crowded tables. 

Kaburagi spotted him before he even reached the table, and his eyes lit up. The feelings in Barnaby's chest—which he had been doing a spectacular job of ignoring—lit up in return. He just hoped none of it showed on his face. 

Kaburagi pulled out a chair when he got closer. "Bunny, you made it!" 

Barnaby did not take the seat just yet. "I told you I would join you for one drink." 

"You did, but you might also have said that just to get rid of me," Kaburagi said. 

Barnaby raised an eyebrow. "Do people often tell you what you want to hear just to get rid of you?" 

"No," Kaburagi said. 

"Yes," Lopez said at the same time.

Kaburagi glared at him. "Hey, you're supposed to be my friend!" 

Lopez raised his beer. "Friends don't lie to friends." 

Kaburagi scowled at that. 

"I'm going to get my drink," Barnaby said. "I'll be right back."

Kaburagi made as though he would scramble to his feet. "Do you need any help?" 

Barnaby shook his head. "I can get my own drink. Sit down." 

Kaburagi hesitated, but Barnaby didn't wait for him to make up his mind. He made his way to the bar and placed his order. "One beer, please." 

The man behind the bar—tall and solemn and at least as dark as Kaburagi—nodded and fetched a glass mug for the beer. "Glad you could join us again, Lord Lapincourt." 

It took Barnaby a moment to place the man. He'd brought the spirits to the party, that was it. Which made him the tavern owner, which…

"You're Mr. Kaburagi's brother, right?" Barnaby asked. 

The man held out his hand. "I am. Muramasa Kaburagi, at your service." 

Barnaby took his hand and shook it. "Yes. We met briefly at the manor. I apologize for not remembering." 

Muramasa shrugged and went back to filling drinks. "It's all right. I imagine you've met a lot of people over the past several weeks, and you've only been in here once. What brings you here this time?"

Barnaby glanced over his shoulder. "Mr. Kaburagi invited me to join him and the others for drinks."

For some reason, that got Muramasa to look back up at him. "Did he, now?"

Barnaby wasn't sure how to take that. "He rather insisted," he said, somewhat defensively. "It would have been rude to refuse, especially after all the help he's given me on the house." 

"Mm-hmm." Muramasa passed him the beer. "Thank you for what you did for Mrs. Penny, by the way." 

Barnaby froze with his hand around the mug of beer. "I beg your pardon?"

Muramasa raised an eyebrow at him. "Mrs. Penny? Owns her house now? You didn't have anything to do with that?"

It wasn't as though he'd done it for thanks. Kicking a widow out of her own home was an abominable thing to do, and Barnaby's _job_ was looking out for these people, something he'd been shirking for much too long. "I'm sure I have no idea what you're talking about. I have Miss Joubert to handle any business interests." 

From the look Muramasa gave him, Barnaby had a feeling that he didn't believe the statement in the least. "Well, I'll have to thank Miss Joubert the next time she comes in, then."

"As you should. She's easily the most effective and efficient solicitor I've ever met," Barnaby said, and backed away from the bar. "It was nice to meet you again." 

"Likewise, Lord Lapincourt," Muramasa said. 

Barnaby returned to the table, but it still felt like he was being watched, even though every time he looked up, Muramasa was clearly busy with something else. 

He sat back at the table and shot Kaburagi a glare. "You didn't have to go telling everybody about Mrs. Penny, you know," he muttered under his breath. 

Kaburagi's eyebrows shot up. "What are you talking about? I haven't said anything." 

_Really_ , the man was a terrible liar. "Your brother just asked me about it. How else would he have heard?" 

Kaburagi propped his chin in his hand and looked like he was fighting a smile. "Because Mrs. Penny has been going around telling everyone who will listen what a kind young man you are." 

The back of his neck heated. "She has not." 

"Yes, she has." Kaburagi gestured across the table with his beer. "Just ask Keith." 

Goodman looked up at the sound of his name. "Ask me what?" 

"Nothing," Barnaby said quickly. 

"How many people has Mrs. Penny told about her house?" Kaburagi asked. 

"Oh, goodness. The entire congregation, at least," Goodman said. "Every Sunday she mentions it to anybody who talks to her long enough. She's very grateful, Lord Lapincourt." 

Barnaby took a drink so he could use the mug to hide his face. "That would explain all the jams and jellies." 

He'd thought he'd said it softly enough that no one else would hear, but Kaburagi snorted into his mug and glanced over at Barnaby, his whiskey-colored eyes dancing with laughter. 

_Oh_. Barnaby let out a slow breath so he would have something else to focus on, because as it was he was worried he would forget how to breathe. He'd thought nothing could be more attractive than Kaburagi's grin, but this—that look as though they were sharing a private joke in the middle of a crowded tavern—had proven him so very, very wrong. 

He surreptitiously rubbed his chest, like that would somehow stop his heart from doing all the stupid, stupid things it did when he was too close to Kaburagi. Of course it didn't help in the least, but the pressure of his hand did give him something _else_ to think about. 

That is, until Kaburagi's knee knocked into his and stayed there. 

Barnaby was so surprised that he couldn't do anything else but gape at him, and then Kaburagi pulled his leg away with a guilty look. "Er, sorry about that." 

Barnaby hoped that the redness he could feel burning his cheeks could be explained away by the sun. "It's all right. It's a small table. And you always seem to have trouble getting your limbs to go where you need them to." 

Kaburagi spluttered and slammed his beer on the table. "I do _not!_ "

"I've been working in relatively close quarters with you for the past few weeks," Barnaby said dryly. "I should know, considering how many bricks you've dropped." 

"I—you—that was _one time_ and I told you it was an accident!" 

"One time?!" Lopez interjected incredulously. "How about when you tripped and knocked over all my firewood at the forge?" 

"Or when you knocked over the holy water in the church?" Goodman shook his head. "It's a miracle the font wasn't damaged. I thought poor Mr. Crowley was going to have a _heart attack_."

Kaburagi whirled on Goodman and jabbed a finger at him. "That one was _not_ my fault." 

The movement slammed his leg into Barnaby's again, but Kaburagi was so intent on defending his own honor that he didn't seem to notice. Barnaby drank his beer and said nothing, quietly relishing the touch. 

He was still tired, and sore, and he knew staying out with them would mean he would be that much _more_ tired in the morning, and have that much more to do that he hadn't been able to do tonight. But listening to them argue and laugh and having Kaburagi's leg pressed solidly against his was infinitely more satisfying than any other pastime Barnaby could conceive. 

And at least for the next couple of hours, he had nothing to do but enjoy it.

***

Kotetsu stayed late at the tavern to help Muramasa clean up. With all the work he'd been doing at Apollon Manor, he hadn't had time to help his brother as often as he normally did, especially considering how much Muramasa was handling with the brewery as well. Tonight, though, he had time, so they sent the others home early while Kotetsu stayed behind. 

For the most part, they worked in silence—or, well, Muramasa worked in silence and Kotetsu resigned himself to nothing but a grunt or two meeting his occasional comment. It was their usual dynamic, practically comfortable at this point.

So Kotetsu thought he could be forgiven for nearly jumping out of his skin when out of nowhere, Muramasa asked, "Do you like Lord Lapincourt?" 

"Eh?" Kotetsu mentally reviewed their conversation to see what could possibly have prompted _that_ question, but nothing came to mind. "He's not so bad, I guess." 

Muramasa was drying glasses behind the bar and setting them back on the shelves. "I thought you said he was a prick." 

"Well, he _was_ ," Kotetsu muttered defensively, and he shoved the broom into the corner by the fireplace to get a particularly stubborn bit of dirt. "Still is, a little bit." 

But not as much as Kotetsu had assumed at first. 

"Is that why you call him Lord Bunny?" 

Kotetsu rubbed the back of his neck. He _had_ started that because Bunny hadn't given him his name, but now... "Partly. I saw the rabbit on his carriage and it just kept going from there. He wouldn't tell me who he was. I had to call him _something_." 

"Yes, but you know his title now," Muramasa pointed out. "It's disrespectful not to use it." 

Kotetsu shrugged. "He doesn't mind." At least, he didn't _think_ Bunny minded. He should probably check on that. 

Muramasa, thankfully, didn't press that matter. "You've brought him here twice." 

"Well, yeah. He's helping on the house with the rest of us. It'd be rude to go out for drinks and not invite him." Really, given the amount of scolding Muramasa had given him about manners when they were growing up, you'd think _he'd_ have remembered that. 

"What about the first time?" Muramasa asked. 

"The first time?" 

"The first time you brought him in here."

Kotetsu frowned. "Ah, he was just leaving Agnes's. He looked like he could use a drink. And he doesn't really know anybody around here. I thought he could use some friends." 

"So you introduced him to all of your friends?" 

Kotetsu rolled his eyes. "Who else am I going to introduce him to?" 

Muramasa sighed and rubbed his temple. "All right, you have a point. So why do you think he's less of a prick now than when you first met?" 

"Well, like I said, he still _is_. He's awkward sometimes and I get the feeling that he hasn't spent a lot of time around people. Well, people without titles." Kotetsu finally succeeded in getting the dirt out of the corner of the fireplace and could continue sweeping. "So he can be a bit of a prick. But he gave Mrs. Penny her house, and he takes the whole baron thing seriously. He's been working on his house with us this entire time and he hasn't complained at all. I think he _wants_ to be a good man, a good baron. I just don't know if he's figured out how he's supposed to do it yet. But he's on the right track." 

Muramasa set his rag aside. "And you're going to help him with that?" 

"Everybody needs help sometimes. Just because he's the baron doesn't change that." 

"You could do that without building his house," Muramasa said. 

Kotetsu scoffed. "That's what he needed the most help _with_. Either that or barony stuff, and I don't think he'd let me help with that." 

"So you picked the task that would take you the most time and be the most effort?" 

"It was the only way to guarantee he'd lower the rents!" 

"Was it? Or was it just the first idea that popped into your head?"

"It _worked_ , didn't it?" Kotetsu stopped sweeping long enough to glare at his brother. "Why are you badgering me about this, anyway? It's not any of your business."

Muramasa sighed again. "You're my brother, of course it's my business. And you have a habit of doing things without really thinking about _why_ you're doing them." 

"What?!" He hadn't expected Muramasa to say something like _that._ "Where do you get a dumb idea like that?"

"Because I've seen you do it before." Muramasa held up a finger. "Like the time you spent four months 'helping out' at Apollon Manor without payment because Tomoe was working there."

Kotetsu's cheeks burned. "Hey, that wasn't—" 

Muramasa ignored him and held up a second finger. "Or how you started the weekly meetings with Keith, Antonio, and Nathan after Tomoe died so you didn't have to deal with your grief." 

_That_ one was a slap in the face. " _Stop_." 

Muramasa had the grace to look a little guilty, like he'd known that was a step too far. "My point is that you _are_ helping people, and that's good, but that's usually not the only reason you have for doing these things."

"I'm helping people!" Kotetsu gestured out the door with the broom. "Why does there have to be any more than that?" 

"There doesn't," Muramasa said, "but are you sure there's _not_?" 

"Well, there isn't anything else," Kotetsu said. "I just want to help Lord Bu—Lord Lapincourt. I help him, he helps the town, everybody's happy."

Muramasa didn't look convinced. "If you say so." 

Kotetsu set the broom aside and scowled at him. "I thought I was staying here to help you clean up, not to get interrogated about why I'm trying to help someone else."

Muramasa held up his hands. "Fine. Why don't you head home? We're pretty much finished here, anyway." 

They weren't, but Kotetsu recognized that it was an apology. He picked the broom back up and set at sweeping again. "I'll just finish this up, then." 

Muramasa just nodded, and they cleaned in silence. 

Such a stupid fight. Where the hell did Muramasa get ideas like that, anyway? The only thing he'd had a point with was helping out at the manor because that was where Tomoe worked, and Kotetsu had been _fifteen_. One was allowed to make some dumb decisions when one was fifteen. 

But this was _nothing_ like that. He was older now, (arguably) wiser, and less inclined toward making decisions based on how attracted he was to somebody. 

He pushed the thoughts away so he could finish sweeping. The faster he finished, the faster he could head home and put the whole ridiculous thing out of his mind.


	9. In Which There Is a Catch

"This is very concerning," Lord Bunny said from several feet below.

Kotetsu stood up on his tiptoes on the scaffolding so he could put the next brick into place. "It'll be fine. I've done this before." 

Granted, the last time he'd done this, he hadn't been _quite_ so far up, but that was a minor detail. Bunny had been making a very concerned frown from the moment Kotetsu had climbed up on the scaffolding to continue laying the bricks. 

They'd fallen into more of a routine as the days went on. Six days a week they worked on the wing, and on the seventh they took a break. Antonio had started coming over only in the afternoons so he could do his work at the forge in the mornings—people had been getting antsy about their blacksmith being gone for most of the day. Kotetsu did have to take a couple of mornings each week to see to his own farm, but with his mother managing most things on that front, he had more time to devote to Apollon Manor's north wing. 

And it was coming along very nicely, if he did say so himself. Somewhat slower going on the outside with the brick laying, but when he walked through the interior now, he could actually see the layout of the rooms and where things were going to go. It wasn't going to be _exactly_ like it had been twenty years ago, but it would be pretty close. 

He hoped Bunny liked it, once they were through. 

"You're getting very close to the edge, Mr. Kaburagi," Bunny said, his voice taking on that stiff and formal tone. 

That particular tone, Kotestu had learned over the past several weeks, meant that Lord Bunny was trying very hard not to show some kind of emotion, so he fell hard into stiff politeness. He grinned to himself. "Are you worried about me, Lord Bunny?" 

"If you break your neck, I'm the one who's going to have to clean it up. I'd rather not."

He glanced down at Bunny, who was standing with one hand on the scaffold like he, personally, was going to keep it from collapsing. "I _promise_ , I'm not going to fall. Trust me." 

Bunny just glared at him over the tops of his glasses, disapproval radiating from every pore. 

Kotetsu went back to laying the bricks. Bunny could disapprove all he wanted; they still needed to get the bricks laid. Besides, they didn't have many more to do in this section, and then he could climb down and they would reposition the scaffold for the next part. 

"Lord Lapincourt! Mr. Kaburagi!" 

Kotetsu turned at the sound of his name. Nathan and Miss Lyle were walking through the back gardens with two picnic baskets. Probably bringing the refreshments, then; they'd shown up every afternoon with much-welcome snacks. 

He turned further to wave at them, and realized he'd overbalanced just as he did. And instead of putting his foot back down on the scaffold, he put it down in thin air. 

Kotetsu's heart jumped into his throat, and he grabbed at the scaffold as he fell, but he couldn't get a solid grip. All he could think was _this is going to hurt_ and then _Bunny is going to be insufferable about this_ and then _Kaede..._

__" _Kotetsu!_ " someone shouted. 

And then he slammed into someone, taking them both to the ground with a grunt. 

Kotetsu lay still for a moment, trying to get his bearings. His whole body had expected to be horribly injured not even two seconds ago. He hadn't quite realized that he _hadn't_ been. Because someone had broken his fall. 

_Wait_. 

He scrambled up and off to see that he'd landed on Bunny. And Bunny was laying on the ground with his eyes closed and his glasses askew and—

_No._

"Bunny!" Kotetsu pulled him up, one arm behind his back and the other grabbing for his wrist to check for his pulse. It hadn't been _that_ far of a fall; surely he hadn't fallen hard enough to—to—

Bunny blinked dazedly, and Kotetsu had never been so happy to see a pair of green eyes in his life. "Bunny, are you all right? Are you hurt?" 

He didn't wait for an answer; he skimmed his hands over Bunny's arms and back and chest, trying to see if anything was broken. Nothing _felt_ broken, but that didn't mean it wasn't. 

He lifted Bunny's shirt and felt along his back, trying to see if any of his ribs had cracked. 

"What," Bunny croaked, "are you _doing?_ " 

"Checking if your ribs are broken," Kotetsu said. "Does it hurt when I touch you?" 

Bunny coughed. "No, it—"

"Lord Lapincourt!" Nathan came running up to them, dress wrenched up in both hands so he could move. "Are you all right?" 

"Fine," Bunny said. He still sounded winded. 

"We should probably call for Doc Saito, just in case," Kotetsu said. "Where's Miss Lyle?" 

Nathan knelt beside him. "I sent her to get Antonio." 

"I am _fine_ ," Bunny repeated. "Just...knocked the wind out of me." He narrowed his eyes at Kotetsu. "You're heavy." 

He sounded closer to normal now. Kotetsu let out a sigh of relief. "Sorry. I didn't think you'd try to catch me." 

Bunny took off his glasses and examined the frames with a frown before he put them back on. "I told you, I'm not cleaning it up if you break your neck on my lawn." 

"We should still contact Doc Saito," Nathan said. "For _both_ of you. That was a bad fall." 

"I'm not hurt!" Kotetsu protested. 

"Like I said, it just knocked the wind out of me." Bunny leaned on his hand and winced. "Nothing's painful enough to be broken. You can take your hand out of my shirt now, Mr. Kaburagi." 

Kotetsu yanked his hand away as if he'd been burned; he hadn't realized he'd left it resting on Bunny's back. "Sorry. I was making sure you hadn't broken any ribs. You couldn't talk." 

"Because you _knocked the wind out of me_ ," Bunny repeated. 

"It was _very_ dashing the way you ran up to catch him." Nathan batted his eyelashes. "Without a single thought for your own safety." 

"Nonsense," Bunny said. "It was practical. If Kaburagi breaks a limb, the wing construction will be that much more behind schedule." 

"We don't have a schedule!" Kotetsu argued. 

"Our schedule is 'by autumn.'" Bunny rested a hand on his side, as if he was checking his ribs for himself. "Or have you forgotten?" 

"I haven't, but that's not a reason to just"—Kotetsu waved his hand at the scaffold—"do _that!_ "

Nathan eyed them both and tapped a finger to the side of his mouth. "Mm-hmm. Oh, look!" He popped up to his feet. "Over here, Antonio!" 

Kotetsu glanced over; Antonio and Miss Lyle were running their way, and Keith wasn't far behind them. 

Bunny groaned and got to his feet. "This is becoming a production." 

Kotetsu stood as well, one hand hovering behind Bunny to catch him if he stumbled. 

"What happened?" Antonio asked when he was closer. "She said Kotetsu fell off the scaffold?" 

"Mm-hmm, and Lord Lapincourt broke his fall," Nathan said, wiping dirt off his dress as he stood. "Don't you think we should call for Doc Saito to look them both over?" 

Kotetsu groaned. "I told you, I'm not hurt! But Bunny—"

" _I_ will be fine," Bunny said. "There's no need to call for a doctor." 

Antonio crossed his arms over his chest. "I don't believe either of you. Go inside. We'll get the doctor." 

"But—" Kotetsu argued. 

Nathan grabbed his shoulder and turned him toward the house. "You heard the man," he said sweetly. "Inside. Both of you." 

Kotetsu opened his mouth to protest again, but Bunny sighed very loudly. "If it will make you feel better, we'll go inside until the doctor gets here. I'll have Mrs. Taylor bring some tea." 

"I _wasn't hurt_ ," Kotetsu grumbled, but he recognized this was a losing battle. They'd both be taking a break whether they wanted to or not. 

He followed Bunny back into the house and into one of the drawing rooms. "You can wait in here," Bunny said. "Mrs. Taylor can bring you anything you need." 

Kotetsu raised an eyebrow. "And where are _you_ waiting?" 

"I have things to tend to. I'll be in my office." 

"Oh, no, you're not leaving me down here by myself. I'll come with you." 

Bunny sighed. "There's no need. There's nothing for you to do up there." 

Kotetsu waved at the empty drawing room. "There's nothing for me to do down _here_ , either. Besides, you just had the wind knocked out of you. What if you can't make it up the stairs?" 

"I made it into the house just fine," Bunny said flatly. "The stairs shouldn't be too much bother." 

"If they come back and you're in your office, they're going to yell at _me_ ," Kotetsu said. 

Bunny did not look moved by the argument. "And you think _being_ in my office will stop that?" 

"...yes," Kotetsu said, even though there was absolutely no reason to think that. 

Bunny rolled his eyes and walked away. 

Kotetsu followed him. "Hey, where are you going?" 

Bunny ignored him and went past the stairs, then turned down a hall. It took Kotetsu a moment to realize he was heading for the kitchen. 

Bunny poked his head in the kitchen door. "Mrs. Taylor, Mr. Kaburagi and I will be in my office. Would you mind bringing some tea up when you have a chance?" 

Kotetsu heard an affirmative response, and then Bunny was striding back down the hall. "You didn't mention _why_ we're going to your office." 

"Because I have correspondence to handle," Bunny said serenely. 

"She'll find out differently when Doc Saito gets here."

"I'm unharmed, you're unharmed, there's no need to worry her." Bunny stopped at the bottom of the staircase. "If you don't like it, you're welcome to wait down here." 

"I didn't say _that_ ," Kotetsu muttered, and followed him up the stairs. 

They'd only made it halfway up the stairs when Bunny stumbled and let out a slight hiss. 

Kotetsu cleared three stairs to stand beside him. "Are you hurt?" 

"I'm fine," Bunny said through gritted teeth. 

"You don't sound fine. You sound hurt." 

"It's nothing." Bunny straightened back up with only the faintest grimace. "Stop worrying." 

Kotetsu seriously doubted it was really _nothing_. 

Sure enough, after another two steps, Bunny was leaning heavily on the wall, his breathing measured in such a way that Kotetsu guessed he was in more pain than he wanted to let on. 

"Damn it," he muttered under his breath, and ducked under Bunny's arm. "Here, lean on me." 

"I will do no such thing," Bunny snapped, but he didn't yank away. 

Probably because he _hurt_ too much to yank away. "Look, clearly the wall isn't helping and you _do_ need to see Doc Saito. We're going back downstairs." 

" _No_." Bunny gripped his shoulder. "If you're going to do this, we're going to my study." 

Kotetsu considered. "You know, I could just pick you up and _carry_ you back downstairs." 

Bunny pulled away from him and started back up the stairs. "That will hurt _more_." 

Kotetsu swore again and grabbed him before he could hurt himself. "Fine, fine, we're going to your study." 

It was slow going, walking together up the stairs, but with each step Bunny leaned on him a little more, and Kotetsu wrapped an arm around his waist to take as much of Bunny's weight as he could. 

At the top of the stairs, Bunny gestured to the left, and Kotetsu followed his instructions to get them to the study. He debated putting Bunny in the desk chair for two seconds before he realized that would probably be a bad idea, and helped him sit on the sofa instead. 

"Desk," Bunny said through gritted teeth. 

"No." Kotetsu sat beside him. "Let me see if you've broken anything." 

"I thought that's what you were doing outside," Bunny said.

"It was, and then you just had to lean on me all the way up the stairs."

Bunny arched an eyebrow. "You are not a doctor." 

"No, but I know how to tell if you've cracked a rib." Kotetsu fidgeted a little. "You got hurt keeping me from breaking my neck. Let me help." 

He didn't want to think about the reaction he'd had to Bunny lying motionless on the ground with his eyes closed, the sharp, cold, _terrible_ fear that Bunny was dead because Kotetsu hadn't been paying attention to where he was standing on the scaffolding. 

Bunny frowned, looking partly like he was angry and partly like he was seriously considering something. "Fine," he finally said. 

Kotetsu crouched in front of him. "I'm, uh. I've got to lift your shirt to look." 

Bunny closed his eyes and sighed. "Very well." 

Gently, Kotetsu lifted the shirt, trying his best not to pull too hard on it. Bunny's entire chest was red—not really surprising, considering how hard Kotetsu had slammed into him—but the skin wasn't broken and everything looked smooth. At least, he was pretty sure that was how ribs were supposed to look under the skin. 

"Take a deep breath," Kotetsu said.

Bunny did, and Kotetsu watched his chest. It moved normally, as far as he could tell. 

"Did it hurt more when you breathed in?" he asked.

Bunny shook his head. "Not much more." 

"That's good. Might mean you didn't break anything." Kotetsu held up his hand. "I'm going to, uh, touch you. Let me know if you feel a sharp pain anywhere when I do." 

He waited for Bunny's confirming nod before he did, starting at the lowest part of his ribcage and pressing just a little. "Does that hurt?" 

"No." 

Kotetsu moved his hand up higher. "How about here?" 

"No." 

"How about—" 

"Just get on with it," Bunny snapped. "I'll tell you if it hurts." 

"All right, all right." Kotetsu went back to probing his ribs and resisted the urge to ask if Bunny was all right after each one. 

Bunny leaned his head back on the sofa and closed his eyes, and Kotetsu couldn't stop looking back from his chest to his face. He wasn't completely sure Bunny would tell him if he probed a tender spot, but at least he could keep an eye out for any winces. 

He made his way all the way up the right side, but Bunny didn't so much as bat an eyelash. Well, that was good. Probably meant nothing on this side was broken. 

Kotetsu started checking Bunny's left side, and at the first press, Bunny's stomach contracted beneath his hand. 

He yanked his hand away. "Did that—" 

"Didn't hurt," Bunny said, voice a little breathless. "Tickled." 

"Oh. Sorry. I'll be more careful." 

"It's fine." 

Kotetsu finished up as fast as he could while still being thorough; fortunately, Bunny didn't tense up again. His skin was very warm, and Kotetsu had the strange urge to rub his thumb against it. 

He pulled away before he could do something stupid. "Doc Saito'll be able to say for sure, but I don't think you broke anything."

Bunny sat up with a faint wince and tugged his shirt back down. "I told you, you only knocked the wind out of me." 

"Yeah, but—" Kotetsu scrubbed his hand over the back of his head. "You shouldn't have done that." 

"Done what?" 

"Tried to catch me." 

"So you would have rather I let your break your neck on the ground?" Bunny said dryly. "I'll keep that in mind for next time."

"I almost broke _your_ neck, instead," Kotetsu reminded him. 

Bunny scoffed. "You did not. You weren't falling from a great enough height for that. If I broke your fall, there was a greater chance that we'd both get scratched up a bit, instead of you breaking bones."

"Did they teach you that at your fancy university the same day you learned brick laying?" 

Bunny gave him a flat look. "Yes. I studied physics."

"Oh." Kotetsu sat back on his knees. "Huh." 

He hadn't thought there would've been enough time to think about it. _He'd_ hardly had enough time to think about it, but then Bunny hadn't been the one falling. 

The image of Bunny on the ground returned unbidden to the front of his mind, and Kotetsu shook it away. He didn't really want to think about what he'd have done if Bunny had been the one falling. 

Someone knocked on the door, and Kotetsu jumped to his feet. A second later, Mrs. Taylor peeked in. "Tea, milord. Mr. Kaburagi, good to see you." 

Kotetsu smiled at her. His cheeks felt unusually hot. "Good to see you again, Mrs. Taylor." 

She set up the tea tray on a small table near the sofa, adjusting the biscuits just so, and poured them both a cup. "Still two sugars, Mr. Kaburagi?" 

He couldn't believe she remembered that; he hadn't taken his tea like that since he was a teenager. "Just one, please. Thank you." 

"Thank you, Mrs. Taylor," Bunny said. "Mr. Lopez should be returning shortly with Doc Saito. You can send them up here when they arrive." 

Mrs. Taylor blinked and looked between Bunny and Kotetsu. "Is everything all right?" 

"Perfectly fine," Bunny said, with absolutely no trace of a lie in his voice. 

Mrs. Taylor didn't look like she believed him, but she didn't argue. "Very well, milord. I'll send them up." She glanced again between them two of them. "Just ring if you need me." 

She left, and Kotetsu sat at one of the chairs near the tea, rather than on the sofa next to Bunny. For some reason, it felt more...fraught to sit there, now, although he wasn't sure why. 

After half a cup of tea, Bunny stood. "If we're going to have other guests, I'm going to put on proper clothes. Please, Kotetsu, stay here and enjoy your tea." 

Kotetsu stood as well, nearly upsetting his cup. "Hey, you don't have to—" 

"The doctor is coming," Lord Bunny said. "Yes, I do. I'll return momentarily." 

With that, he left the study, leaving Kotetsu alone with his tea and the realization that, for the first time ever, Lord Bunny hadn't called him "Mr. Kaburagi."

***

That night, Barnaby sat in bed with a book in his lap and failing to read any of it. Doc Saito had come to the same conclusion as Kotetsu—that he hadn't broken anything and would most likely have some nasty bruises for the next several days—and had ordered him to stay away from the construction for at least three days to give himself some time to heal up. Kotetsu had been even more apologetic after that, especially when Saito declared that he hadn't been injured at all in the fall. 

Barnaby closed his eyes and pressed his fingers to the bridge of his nose. Apparently he was _Kotetsu_ now, since Barnaby had watched him fall off the scaffolding and felt his heart jump into his throat. The only thought in his mind had been finding some way to break the fall, even if it meant using his own body to do so. It _was_ indeed a miracle that neither of them had been hurt worse. 

He rested a hand on his ribs. They were still sore from landing flat on the ground with another human being on top of him, but perhaps more importantly, he could still feel the imprint of Kotetsu's hand on his skin, the intensity of his focus. 

Barnaby hadn't been able to watch him out of the fear he'd do something absolutely lunatic, like try to kiss the man, but even having his eyes closed hadn't stopped him from feeling every single press of Kotetsu's hands on his chest. He'd finally made up the ridiculous excuse that he'd needed to change his clothes—even though he knew damn well Doc Saito would probably have him take them off again—just to give himself some space to clear his head. 

This was beginning to be a problem. 

It was a problem because as far as Barnaby could tell, Kotetsu had no inclinations toward men at all, let alone in his direction specifically. It was a problem because even if he _did_ , Barnaby had no desire for a simple dalliance. No, he wanted something _more,_ and as a baron with no heir, he needed to be looking for someone who could provide him with one, not a farmer eleven years his senior with kind eyes and a quick smile. 

It was a problem because as soon as the house was finished, Barnaby was going to leave, and Kotetsu made him want to stay. 

Not _just_ Kotetsu, to be sure, but Kotetsu was a very large part of it. 

His heart panged, and Barnaby rubbed his chest. It was a problem because it was going to _hurt_ , sooner rather than later, and if he knew what was good for him, he'd find a way to extricate himself from these feelings before that happened. 

Extricate himself soon, and pray he hadn't already fallen in too deep.


	10. In Which There Is a Realization

Lord Bunny rested for all of two days before he was back to help with the construction on the north wing. Kotetsu was surprised he'd lasted that long. Personally, he'd never really been one to sit still unless he couldn't physically move, something which had gotten him in trouble more times than he could count. 

Even though it was expected, his heart still gave a funny little pang whenever he arrived at Apollon Manor and didn't see Bunny out among the workers. Kotetsu hadn't realized how _used_ he'd gotten to working with him until he wasn't there anymore. It was disappointing to be working by himself. 

Well, not by _himself_ , obviously; Antonio and Keith were still there, and Ivan and Pao-lin came out regularly. Plus, as they'd gotten further along with the project, more people showed up every day to help out as they could. But Kotetsu had been working mostly with Bunny since they'd started this project, and, well, they made a pretty good team. 

So on the third day, when Kotetsu made his way up to the north wing—nearly half-bricked now, and the inside was moving even more quickly—and saw Bunny sitting outside in his work boots, hair tied up as it usually was, he couldn't stop the grin from spreading over his face. 

He picked up his pace. "Bunny!"

Bunny stood up. "You're late." 

Kotetsu balked. "I am not! I got here at the same time I did yesterday!" 

Bunny dusted off his pants. "Then clearly you've been slacking while I've been resting." 

Kotetsu opened his mouth to argue again when he spotted the faint smile on Bunny's face and the way his green eyes danced a little. He was _teasing_. 

Kotetsu's heart did something twisty at that. "I thought Doc Saito said you needed to rest for another day?"

Bunny shrugged. "I feel much better and nothing hurts when I move my arms, so it shouldn't be a problem. Besides, someone needs to keep an eye on you." 

Kotetsu grinned wider. "I promise not to fall on you again."

"Thank you," Bunny said dryly. "But if it's all the same to you, I'll be the one on the scaffold." 

"Then I guess I'll just have to catch you if _you_ fall," Kotetsu said. 

Bunny scoffed and turned away, and Kotetsu hefted their bag of tools and followed him.

It took no time at all for them to fall back into a rhythm, both of them on the scaffold because no matter what Bunny said, Kotetsu wasn't leaving him up there by himself. It was nice to be working alongside Bunny again, teasing him as they worked, having Bunny quip back. 

And sometimes, if Kotetsu looked fast enough, he could see that same faint smile before Bunny hid it.

***

It was two hours after their midday break when Kaede came running up. 

Kotetsu was back on the ground, mixing mortar again, when he heard her shriek " _Dad!_ "

His blood ran cold, and he dropped everything he was holding to run over to her. "What's wrong? What happened?" 

Tears streaked her face, and she gasped for breath. "It's—it's—"

Kotetsu rubbed her back, fighting down his own panic. "Deep breaths, Kaede. Just tell me what happened." 

"It's Grandma," Kaede sobbed. "She's hurt. She was out working in the garden and then—" 

The rest of the explanation dissolved into another exhausted sob, but Kotetsu didn't need to hear anything else. He needed to get home _now_. 

He hugged Kaede tight. "You're going to go inside with Mrs. Taylor, all right?"

She shook her head. "I want to stay with you!" 

"Kaede—" 

Bunny ran up to them. "What's happened?" 

Kotetsu stood. "My mother's hurt. I have to go, I'm sorry." 

"I'll get you a horse," Bunny said. 

"You don't have to—" 

But Bunny was already turning away and striding back toward the wing. "Mr. Garrett!" he yelled. "Get a horse saddled for Mr. Kaburagi immediately." He paused and glanced back at Kotetsu. "Should we send for the doctor?" 

Kotetsu could only nod, and his grip on Kaede's shoulder tightened. 

Bunny started off again, this time calling for Antonio. 

Kotetsu ushered Kaede to the house. "Come on, we'll have Mrs. Taylor get you something to drink." 

"But what about Grandma?" 

"I'll be there soon, and Doc Saito won't be too far behind." Unless the doctor was out on a call, but Kotetsu prayed that wasn't the case. 

"I don't want to stay here!" Kaede shouted. "I want to stay with you!" 

"You _can't_." Kotetsu didn't shout back, but it was only because he forced himself to hold it back. "I can't ride fast with us both on the horse, and I need to get back as quick as I can. I'll send for you as soon as the doctor gets there, all right?" 

Kaede glared mutinously at him for several seconds before she nodded. 

Kotetsu would take it. 

He left her in the kitchen with Mrs. Taylor, and by the time he got back outside, Garrett had one of Bunny's horses saddled and ready. Kotetsu thanked him and mounted the horse, and took off for his house as fast as he could ride. 

It was not a long walk from Apollon Manor back to his house and it was an even shorter ride, but today he felt every second of it, because any distance was too far of a distance when you needed to be somewhere _now_. 

He galloped up to his house and pulled the horse to a stop, nearly falling off in an effort to get to the back garden. "Mom!" 

No response. That was all right. She probably hadn't heard him. 

He raced over to the garden and spotted a prone figure lying in the cabbages. His heart jumped into his throat. " _Mom!_ " 

Kotetsu jumped over three rows of vegetables and ran to her, skidding to a stop in the dirt beside her. She wasn't moving. She wasn't talking. She wasn't—

"Oh, for heaven's sake," Anju muttered. 

She _was_ talking. Kotetsu sagged in relief and threw off a prayer of thanks. "Are you all right?" 

"I'm not dying, if that's what you mean," she said. "Although I can't move. I think something happened to my back." 

From the tightness in her voice, Kotetsu guessed she was in a lot more pain than she was letting on. "I'll get you inside," he said. "Antonio's gone to get the doctor." 

Anju scoffed. "No need for all this fuss." 

"Of course we're fussing! You're hurt!"

"It's not that bad." 

He couldn't _believe_ he was arguing with her about this right now. Kotetsu wiped a hand over his face. "You just told me you couldn't move." 

"It's not going to kill me." 

He ignored that and got his arms under her so he could lift her up. "I'll pick you up on three. Tell me if I hurt you." 

"Oh, just do it. I'm tired of lying here." 

Kotetsu lifted her with a grunt; his mother was not very tall, but she was compact from decades of working the farm. And trying to lift her without jostling much was hard. From the hiss she let out, he guessed he hadn't succeeded.

He got her inside and settled on the sofa in the drawing room. From the grimace on her face, she was clearly in pain, but she just patted his hand and whispered, "Thank you." 

Kotetsu squeezed her arm and kissed her forehead. "Where's Miss Lahey?" 

Anju rested her head on the arm of the couch. "In town, doing the shopping." 

So it would probably be another hour, at least, before she was back. "I'll make some tea," Kotetsu said. 

Anju smiled. "See if you can find some biscuits, while you're at it." 

He walked into the kitchen and put the kettle on to boil, and then sank against the nearest wall out of sight of the drawing room and hugged himself so his hands would stop shaking. She was all right. She was going to be all right. 

Kotetsu stayed like that, repeating the words to himself over and over, until the kettle boiled and he had to put the tea tray together. He really hoped Doc Saito wasn't out on another call. He also hoped Antonio was riding a lot faster than he normally did.

He'd just brought the tray into the drawing room and set it down when the front door slammed open and Kaede ran in, making a beeline straight for her grandmother. 

Kotetsu nearly jumped out of his skin. "Kaede, how did you—" 

He looked back over to the door and saw Lord Bunny standing just over the threshold. "Bunny?!"

Bunny stood there stiffly, hands behind him, looking more like he should be wearing his fancy red jacket instead of his work clothes. "Kaede asked for a ride back. I thought it would be best to give her one instead of waiting for news. I'll be going now." 

No, he didn't want Bunny to leave, and Kotetsu wasn't going to examine that feeling too closely right now. "Why don't you stay for tea? At least until Doc Saito gets here."

Bunny shifted his weight and his eyes darted off to the side. "I'd rather not intrude."

"Oh, tell him to come inside," Anju called from the couch. 

Kotetsu rolled his eyes, half at his mother and half at Bunny. "You aren't intruding." He grabbed Bunny's arm and pulled him into the house. "Come on, have some tea and biscuits. It's probably not as good as what Mrs. Taylor puts together, but it's still tea." 

"I'm sure it's very good," Bunny said quietly. 

As soon as they were both in the drawing room, Kotetsu realized Bunny had never been to his house before. He wasn't ashamed of it, but it certainly wasn't anywhere near as grand as Apollon Manor, even if the latter had fallen into some disrepair through the years. 

"Welcome to our home, Lord Lapincourt," Anju said. "You'll forgive me if I don't stand." 

Bunny shook his head. "Of course. You have a lovely house, Mrs. Kaburagi. Thank you for inviting me in." 

" _I_ invited you in," Kotetsu grumbled. 

Bunny shot him a glare before turning back to his mother with a polite smile. "If there's anything I can do for you, please let me know. Mrs. Taylor sends her regards and hopes that this is nothing serious." 

Anju scoffed. "It's not. I'm just old. Give me a few hours to rest and it should be fine." Her eyes took on a shrewd look. "It's good to see you up and around again. I haven't gotten the chance to thank you for keeping my son from breaking his fool neck." 

Kotetsu whipped around to her, and the back of his neck heated. He had _very carefully_ avoided mentioning that to his mother; he hadn't wanted her to worry. " _Mom_. I didn't even tell you about that!" 

"Of course you wouldn't." She smiled beatifically. "Miss Seymour did."

Dammit. He and Nathan were going to have _words_ about that later.

"It wasn't that bad of a fall," Bunny demurred. "Besides, he would have done the same for me, I'm sure." 

The second part, he said with a very small smile in Kotetsu's direction, and Kotetsu had to clear his throat before he could answer. "Of course. Can't have you breaking your neck, either." 

Kaede jumped up from where she'd been kneeling by the sofa. "Wait, _what_ happened?! Dad, you fell?!" 

"It wasn't much of a fall!" Kotetsu protested.

Lord Bunny crossed his arms and leveled a glare at him. "It was enough of one." 

Now Kaede was glaring at him, too. "Why didn't you say anything?" 

"I didn't want you to worry!" Kotetsu said. "Besides, I was fine!" 

That apparently didn't help in the least, because Kaede just scowled at him more. 

"Kotetsu, why don't you go make some more tea?" Anju asked serenely. "Lord Lapincourt is going to think we don't know how to have guests." 

Kotetsu recognized an out when he saw one and grabbed the teapot. To his surprise, Bunny followed him out of the drawing room and into the kitchen, and took a seat at the table. 

Kotetsu was suddenly not entirely sure what to do. He couldn't remember the last time they'd had someone in the house who wasn't Keith, Antonio, or Nathan. Make tea, of course, but it felt wrong not to say or offer anything. He scanned the kitchen and spotted the tin on the counter. "Uh...biscuit?" 

"Please," Bunny said. 

Kotetsu opened the tin and put a few biscuits on a plate, and then went back to making the tea. He could hear his mother and Kaede talking, but not loud enough to make out the words, so he put it out of his mind. He could make a guess at what they were saying, anyway. 

"Why didn't you tell them about the accident?" Bunny asked. 

Kotetsu rubbed the back of his neck and focused on refilling the kettle. "What accident?" 

" _Kotetsu_ ," Bunny said reproachfully. 

Kotetsu sighed and set the kettle on the stove. "It wasn't a big deal. I was fine, you were fine, there was no sense in worrying everybody with it." 

"But you had to know they would find out," Bunny pointed out. 

Kotetsu shoved his hands in his pockets and leaned against the counter. "Not if Nathan hadn't opened his big damn mouth." 

Bunny arched an eyebrow, conveying exactly what he thought of _that_ statement. 

"I didn't want them to worry," Kotetsu repeated. "Kaede's a kid, she doesn't need to be thinking about things like that. And my mother has enough to worry about." 

"Hmm." Bunny tapped a biscuit on the plate before he took a thoughtful bite. "And what if they hadn't told you about your mother falling in the garden because they didn't want you to worry?" 

"That's _different_ ," Kotetsu protested. 

"Really? How?" 

He did not have a ready answer for that question, and he kind of hated Bunny for asking it. "It just _is_."

Bunny took another bite of the biscuit. "Mm-hmm." 

"It is!" 

"Whatever you say." 

Kotetsu sighed. "Look, I didn't...handle it well when my wife died." That was, perhaps, the largest understatement he'd ever uttered, but Bunny didn't need to know that. "I know they worried about me a lot back then. So I try not to give them anything else to worry about." 

He twisted the silver ring he still wore—five years, and he couldn't bear the thought of taking it off—and turned away to watch the kettle boil. Maybe it would boil faster and he could busy himself putting the tea together so he didn't have to think about anything else. 

"I'll never understand why people think you should be able to handle it well," Bunny said softly. 

Kotetsu turned back to him. "Huh?" 

Bunny was staring at the plate of biscuits, his mouth pinched into a thin line. "Losing someone close to you. How are you supposed to handle that _well?_ What's the proper way to—to—" 

He cut himself off with a quiet curse, and Kotetsu had a feeling they weren't just talking about him. 

He took a seat at the table next to Bunny. "I don't know what the proper way is, but I've been told it's not getting blackout drunk every night for two months when you have a child who needs you to be stable."

As if anybody _could_ be stable when they'd had half their heart ripped out of them, but apparently he should've found a way to be. 

Bunny scoffed. "If I'd been old enough, I'd have tried it. I didn't sleep for six months." 

Kotetsu stared at him. Not really surprised at the not sleeping— _he_ hadn't been able to, either—but at how long it had gone on. "Why?"

Bunny shrugged, as if it hardly signified. "I had terrible nightmares." His mouth twisted down. "Apparently waking up screaming was very disruptive to the rest of the household and not something to be done. So I mostly stopped sleeping." 

Kotetsu continued staring. "You were a _child_." 

Bunny took another biscuit. "Yes. I was complimented many times on how stoic I was at such a young age. How _well_ I was handling losing my parents." He smiled bitterly and broke the biscuit into tiny pieces. "My understanding was that the only correct way to grieve is not to do so at all." 

_That_ hit a little too close to home. Kotetsu grabbed a biscuit for himself. "Or at least not doing it where anyone else can see you." 

That got a truer smile from Bunny, one closer to commiseration. "Or that." 

The kettle boiled then, and Kotetsu stood up to refill the teapot. It was the first time in ages that talking about it didn't hurt, the grief mixing up with the knowledge that whoever he was talking to was going to worry. It didn't feel _great_ , but it felt...safer to discuss. Even if their grief wasn't the same, he got the feeling Bunny understood and wasn't going to judge. 

Someone knocked on his front door. Kotetsu wiped his hands on his trousers and went to open it. 

Antonio stood on the front step with Doc Saito in tow. "Sorry. We got here as fast as we could." 

Kotetsu stepped aside to let them in. "She's in the drawing room." 

"I'm fine!" Anju called. 

"You can't _move!_ " Kotetsu reminded her. 

Doc Saito swept past him, mumbling something Kotetsu didn't quite catch, and set his bag on the floor beside the sofa. 

Bunny came back out into the drawing room. "I should go back." 

Kotetsu spun around to him. "You don't have to. We could—" 

_Go back to talking_ was how he was going to finish the sentence, but the little bubble they'd built in the kitchen was already broken. No way to get it back now, no matter how much Kotetsu wanted to.

From the way Bunny smiled at him, he knew it, too. "I have two horses that need to be returned to the stables and a crew of laborers still working on my house. Please, send word once you know what the doctor says." 

"I will." Kotetsu held out his hand. "Thank you for bringing Kaede." 

Bunny took his hand. "Of course. And please, if there's anything else I can do, let me know." 

It wasn't quite a handshake. That was what Kotetsu had intended, it _was_ , but instead he just...held Bunny's hand. It felt very nice to hold Bunny's hand. 

Behind him, Antonio cleared his throat. 

Kotetsu quickly let go, although he couldn't say why. "Uh, see you tomorrow, then." 

Bunny nodded and gave him a ghost of a smile. "See you tomorrow, Kotetsu." 

He left, and Kotetsu watched him go with a pang in his heart and a sudden, overwhelming desire to grab Bunny and ask him to _stay_. 

It slammed into him with the force of a galloping horse, and Kotetsu stayed at the door for a solid thirty seconds, staring vacantly after Bunny's departing form and trying to figure out where the _hell_ that thought had come from. 

"Kotetsu? You all right?" Antonio asked. 

Kotetsu jerked himself out of his thoughts. "Yes. Fine! I've got to get the tea. I'll be right back." 

He hurried back to the kitchen before Antonio could ask him anything else, and sank against the table once he was alone. He was pretty sure he'd felt less winded after falling off the damn scaffold _._

Oh, no. Oh, _no_. 

He couldn't be having feelings for Bunny. 

Could he? 

Kotetsu very quickly skimmed through all the interactions they'd had. He _could_. 

_Oh, no.  
_

***

He shoved the thoughts to the back of his mind to deal with much later, after he knew what was going on with his mother. Doc Saito informed them that it wasn't anything life-threatening, but she had hurt her back pretty badly and would need to stay in bed for the next few days. Anju would have been more excited to eat a spoonful of ants, and Kotetsu resigned himself to spending the next few days keeping her from injuring her back worse. 

Really, he was just grateful she was going to be all right. 

Muramasa showed up almost as soon as Doc Saito and Antonio left, which had Kotetsu marveling at the speed news spread in this town. He went out to the back porch and left Kaede and his mother to fill Muramasa in on the day. 

It was still hot outside, even with the sun drooping toward the west and stretching shadows across the ground. Insects buzzed lazily over the fields and the geese honked in their pens, oblivious to how terrible the day had been. Between his mother's injury and the sudden realization he'd had about his feelings for Bunny, Kotetsu very much wanted a drink. 

As if he'd read Kotestu's mind, Muramasa came out onto the porch and handed him a dark bottle. "Here. Looks like you need this."

Kotetsu took it gratefully. "How's Mom doing?" 

"Good, all things considered." Muramasa sat beside him and opened his own bottle. "How are _you?_ " 

"I'm fine! Why wouldn't I be fine?" Kotetsu took a swallow from his bottle and grimaced. Beer wasn't supposed to be _spicy._ "What the _hell_ did you give me?"

Muramasa grinned. "New batch." 

Kotetsu frowned at the bottle. "Which one was this?" 

"Blueberries and jalapeño."

Kotetsu shuddered. "Wow." 

Muramasa laughed. "Yeah. It grows on you, though."

Kotetsu took another drink. It did not improve the flavor. "Blech. Hope it grows quickly." 

They sat outside on the back porch, drinking the terrible beer in relative silence. Kotetsu debated whether to talk to Muramasa—his brother _did_ give good advice—but couldn't think of how to broach the subject. 

"So what's going on?" Muramasa asked. 

Kotetsu jerked guiltily. He could've sworn he hadn't said anything. "Nothing! What makes you think something's going on?"

Muramasa took a long drink of his beer before he answered. "Because the last time I saw you this twitchy, you'd decided to ask Tomoe to marry you and you were trying to figure out how to do it." 

Kotetsu scowled into his beer. "I was _not_ twitchy." 

"Anxious, then." Muramasa leaned back on one hand. "What happened?" 

"You mean aside from Mom?"

Muramasa rolled his eyes. " _Kotetsu_."

"Nothing else happened, really," Kotetsu said. "Kaede came running up to the manor to tell me what happened, Bunny let me borrow a horse to get back here, and then he brought Kaede back. Antonio got here with Doc Saito not long after that." 

"Really?" Muramasa raised his eyebrows. "Lord Lapincourt brought Kaede over here? Himself?" 

Kotetsu turned his attention to his beer. "He did." 

"Hm," was all Muramasa said in response. 

Kotetsu glanced at him. "What's that supposed to mean?" 

"Nothing." Muramasa appeared to be studying the fields. "Just surprising that the baron would bring Kaede home himself instead of having one of his men do it. It's nice of him." 

"It was," Kotetsu agreed. 

"Did you ever figure out why you're helping him?" 

_This_ again? Kotetsu scrubbed a hand over his face. "I told you, it's just to help him out, just—" 

The feelings he'd been shoving resolutely to the back of his mind reared again, and his chest got tight just _thinking_ about Bunny. This had been going on so much longer than today, he could tell now, and—

Like a brick to the skull, he remembered Muramasa pressing him about helping Bunny while they'd been cleaning the tavern, and he slowly turned to look at his brother. "You _knew_." 

Muramasa sipped his beer. "So you did figure it out." 

Kotetsu spluttered. "How did you know?! _I_ didn't even know!" 

Muramasa just lifted a shoulder. "You're my little brother, Kotetsu. I know how you are when you like someone." He gestured toward the manor with his bottle. "You like him." 

Kotetsu stared down at his own bottle. "Why didn't you say anything?" 

"Tried to, but you weren't ready to hear it." Muramasa tapped his bottle against the porch. "So I didn't want to push too much." 

Kotetsu buried his face in his free hand and groaned. He didn't know what to do about this. Bunny was the _baron_. Like it or not, he was the one who owned all the land in the area. And he'd be going back to the city once the seasons changed. He'd been _very_ clear on that account. 

Muramasa patted his back. "There, there." 

Kotetsu glared at him. "That's not helping." 

"Can't imagine there's much that will," Muramasa said. "Are you going to tell him?" 

"I...I don't know." Kotetsu rubbed the back of his neck. "I just figured it out this afternoon. I don't even know how _I_ feel about it yet." 

He liked Bunny, yes. But there was a lot to think about beyond that, and he hadn't had time to think about any of it. 

Muramasa nodded. "That's all right. You'll figure it out eventually." He sighed and stood up. "I've got to get back to the tavern. Are you going to be all right?" 

Kotetsu waved his bottle. "I'll be fine. You should say good-bye to Mom and Kaede before you go." 

"I will." Muramasa clapped his shoulder. "Stop by when you have some free time. There's another batch that should be ready next week." 

Kotetsu nodded and watched his brother go back in the house, and then he buried his face in his hands and groaned. 

This was a mess for a thousand different reasons. How had he gone _this long_ without realizing what was happening? He'd been _married_ , for heaven's sake. Falling in love was not new for him. He should've recognized it before now. 

And yet...

And yet there were dozens of little ways this time was different, not in the least because Kotetsu was not a moon-eyed fifteen-year-old anymore. Why should he be surprised it felt different when twenty years separated him from the first time? Of course he hadn't recognized it. 

Besides, after Tomoe had died...he'd never even considered looking for someone else. As far as he'd been concerned, that was it for him. There wouldn't _be_ anyone else. There couldn't be. 

And then Bunny had ridden into his life and here they were. Or rather, here _Kotetsu_ was, struggling through the realization that he loved someone who very likely didn't—or couldn't—love him back. He knew enough about barons to know there were rules about who they could court; he was pretty sure widowed farmers didn't qualify, even if that farmer owned his own land. 

Not that that mattered, because he had no way of knowing whether Bunny felt the same way. Which, why _would_ he? Kotetsu was eleven years older. He had a daughter and a life here, and Bunny clearly preferred the city. There were probably a lot of suitable people in the city for a young baron to court. 

Kotetsu stood and stretched the kinks out of his back. He needed to put this out of his mind. Bunny was here now, and he seemed determined to be a good baron and seemed to not mind spending time together. That was good enough. 

It would have to be.


	11. In Which They Share a Horse

The days grew shorter, the leaves started to turn, and the early mornings held a crispness in the air that meant summer was soon to go and autumn was well on its way. 

Just as the seasons changed, they set the last brick in place and the north wing was finished. 

Well, not _entirely_ finished—Barnaby still had to refurnish it—but the rebuilding was complete. 

He walked through the empty halls, peering in the rooms. Bright, open windows. Blank walls. A plain canvas just waiting for paint and paper. 

The thought should have worried him, but it didn't. It felt like...freedom. As though some time in the past several weeks, the house had cast off the weight that had been sitting on it for twenty years. 

Or maybe it was Barnaby who had cast a weight off. It was difficult to say. 

To his continued surprise, the lowered rents had helped tremendously. The town was not yet thriving, but it was on its way there. People were happier, it seemed, and the entire air of the town was lighter when he went in to visit. 

He and Samantha had gone through the house piece by piece, deciding what to keep and what could be sold. That had earned him enough to bring on more help—not yet enough to properly keep a house of this size, but enough to make it easier on Samantha. And with his new investments bearing fruit, he'd be able to hire a few more before the end of the year. 

It might be by the skin of his teeth, but they would make enough to keep the estate running. 

Barnaby looked up at the ceiling and let the relief wash over him. For the first time in years, he did not feel the crippling grief he'd come to associate with this place. In fact, he rather liked it. 

"Not too bad, huh?" 

Barnaby's lips tugged into a smile, and he turned to see Kotetsu standing in the hallway behind him, admiring their work. "How did you get in here?" 

"Came looking for you. Mrs. Taylor said you were here." Kotetsu shrugged. "We're going to the tavern to celebrate being done. Do you want to come?" 

"We're going to have a party next week," Barnaby said. "Right here. Mrs. Taylor insisted on it." 

"Yeah, but that's also for _everybody_." Kotetsu shoved his hands in his pockets. "And for sending you back to the city. The one tonight is just for us. Just to celebrate." 

He knew what Kotetsu meant by _us_ —knew that he meant everyone who had been involved with the building—but it still made Barnaby's heart flutter. "I suppose it can't hurt to celebrate that." 

Kotetsu grinned and tipped his hat. "See you there."

***

The tavern was crowded, as it usually was, which Barnaby expected. What he did _not_ expect was the earsplitting cheer that greeted him when he entered. 

He froze at the noise. "What—" 

Kotetsu appeared out of nowhere and threw his arm around Barnaby's shoulders, steering him toward their usual table. "You made it! Come on, we're all celebrating." 

Barnaby let himself be dragged through the tavern, shaking every hand that was pushed into his chest and somehow picking up three drinks along the way. "Why is everybody cheering?" 

"Because we finished the house!" Kotetsu smiled broadly, his cheeks already flushed. "And everybody helped!" 

Barnaby looked around the room. There were a _lot_ more people here than had been at the house even on the busiest day. "Everybody?" 

"Everybody," Kotetsu confirmed. "Get a drink, I'll introduce you." 

Barnaby kept one of the three drinks he'd been given and set the other two down on a table; he was pretty sure someone would make sure they didn't go to waste. He recognized many people from the first party at the manor all those weeks ago, but none of them had been as enthusiastic as they were now. 

"I didn't expect people to be this happy about the house," Barnaby said to Kotetsu—well, shouted, really, to be heard over the din.

Kotetsu squeezed his shoulder and leaned in close to his ear. "It's not just the house. You made their lives easier, you know? They're not struggling, now." 

Barnaby turned to argue with him—that could _not_ be the reason—but Kotetsu had not turned away. Which meant their faces were only inches apart, and that close to Kotetsu's whiskey-colored eyes, Barnaby immediately forgot the point he intended to argue. 

He grappled with his thoughts, trying to pull out one that was coherent and not something like _I'd really like to kiss you_. "They should be thanking you instead." 

Kotetsu's eyes widened. This close, it was mesmerizing to watch. "Me? Why me?" 

"Because I wouldn't have done it if you hadn't asked me to," Barnaby said. "It wouldn't have occurred to me."

Kotetsu's cheeks, already red from drinking, darkened further, and he finally turned away, rubbing the back of his neck. "That's not true. You'd have done it even if I hadn't said anything." 

Barnaby wasn't sure, but it wasn't worth arguing the point right now. "You made it happen faster, then." 

Kotetsu glanced back at him and smiled briefly, one that was small and soft and so different from his usual smiles that Barnaby was thrown for a minute. 

Then it was gone and his usual grin was back. "Why don't we get another drink?" 

Barnaby finished the one he had in his hand. "Sounds fantastic."

***

The celebration went on for longer than Kotetsu thought it would, but then it was easy to lose track of time when Muramasa kept the drinks coming and everybody in the entire tavern wanted to talk to them at least twice. Easy to lose track of time when Bunny kept glancing over to him, as if he wanted to make sure Kotetsu was still by his side. 

Easy to lose track of time when he sat down at their usual table and Bunny sat beside him, their legs knocking together under the table. Kotetsu knew he _should_ move away, give Bunny his space, but Bunny didn't seem to mind and Kotetsu was just drunk enough that he wanted to stay right where he was. Wanted to stay close and soak up every moment with Bunny that he could, because of course he hadn't figured out his feelings until the house was almost finished, and now it was and Bunny was leaving. 

But no, Kotetsu wasn't thinking about that tonight. He was just going to enjoy the moment, for however long he had it. 

The night wore on, and people gradually filtered out of the tavern and headed home. Kotetsu was vaguely aware that the crowd had thinned, but he was talking to Antonio, Nathan, and Bunny, and he was much too happy about it to pay anyone else any attention. 

At least, until Bunny gently shook his shoulder and said, "I think it's time to head home." 

Kotetsu frowned and looked up from the beer he'd been nursing. "Eh? It is?" 

A quick glance around the room, however, showed that Bunny was right. Ivan was sweeping up while Muramasa was cleaning behind the bar, and Antonio and Nathan had migrated to a different table for what looked like a much more private conversation. Other than that, he and Bunny were the only ones left in the tavern. 

Kotetsu straightened up and winced. "Ah, hey, Muramasa—" 

"Go home," Muramasa said without even looking up from the bar. 

"Hey, you don't even know what I was going to say!" 

"Something that will probably end with me telling you, again, to _go home_ ," Muramasa said dryly. "It's late." 

Kotetsu sighed and grabbed his hat. He'd planned on staying at Antonio's tonight, but considering how he and Nathan were sitting right now, that idea was a bust. He'd be walking home, then. 

He stood and shoved his hat on his head. "In that case, see you tomorrow." 

Muramasa went back to cleaning with a faint shake of his head. "Good night, Kotetsu." 

He followed Bunny out of the tavern and into the dark street. The chill in the air slapped him, helping him to sober up some. Nobody else was around, and the full moon was working its way through the sky.

Kotetsu gave Bunny a little wave. "Have a good night, Lord Bunny." 

He shoved his hands in his pockets and started down the street. It wasn't _that_ cold, but he had a feeling he'd still be half-frozen by the time he got home. 

"What do you think you're doing?" 

Kotetsu stopped and turned back to Bunny, who was still standing out in front of the tavern and staring after him. "Walking home?" 

"You are absolutely not walking anywhere in this state," Bunny said sternly. 

Kotetsu frowned down at himself. "What state?" 

Bunny sighed exasperatedly. "You're drunk." 

"I'm not _that_ drunk," Kotetsu protested. 

"You're drunk enough that I don't feel comfortable watching you _walk_ all the way back to your house at midnight," Bunny said. "Come with me. I'll give you a ride." 

Kotetsu froze where he was. He hadn't been watching when Bunny had arrived, but he was _pretty_ sure Bunny had come on a horse, not in a carriage. "Did you...bring a carriage?" 

There was the barest hint of hesitation before Bunny said, "We can share my horse. It will be fine for a short trip." 

Sharing a horse. With Bunny. Kotetsu cleared his throat and struggled to find words that would explain why that was a bad idea _without_ admitting that his feelings for Bunny would make such a ride an exercise in torture. "Can your horse even carry two people?" 

"It will be _fine_ for a short trip," Bunny said again. "I sincerely doubt you've gained enough weight in the past few weeks to impair my horse. Come on." 

Kotetsu's instinct was to protest, but he _was_ drunk, and Bunny clearly wasn't taking no for an answer. And it would be nice not to have to walk all the way home. 

But sharing a saddle with Bunny for the entire ride...

Bunny turned and strode back toward the stable, looking for all the world like he hadn't spent the past several hours drinking. Kotetsu swore under his breath and ran to keep up. 

"Do you think you can hold onto me?" Bunny asked once he had his horse saddled. 

Kotetsu considered how much he'd had to drink and how high the chances were of him falling asleep on Bunny. "Er..." 

Bunny sighed. "Get on, then. I'll sit behind you." 

Kotetsu climbed onto the horse and scooted as far forward as he could, but the saddle only had so much room and as soon as Bunny settled behind him, Kotetsu was _intimately_ aware of just how little space there was. If he breathed too deeply, the scant millimeters between them vanished. 

He _tried_ to keep a respectable distance between them, but that was nearly impossible to do when every movement jabbed a new part of the saddle into his leg or pushed him back into Bunny again. 

"Will you stop moving?" Bunny snapped.

"The saddle's digging into my leg," Kotetsu lied. "It hurts." 

"Moving around like that isn't going to help."

"It's still digging! If I could just—" 

Bunny transferred the reins to one hand and yanked Kotetsu back against him. "Is that better?" 

Every thought process in Kotetsu's mind screeched to a halt. "Um. Yes. Better." 

Bunny relaxed his arm around Kotetsu's chest and took hold of the reins properly again. "Good. Please stop moving."

They were so close together now that Kotetsu _felt_ each word, from the vibrations in Bunny's chest to the breath that ghosted across his ear. And they were going to spend the entire ride like this. He wasn't going to survive. 

He cleared his throat and struggled to think of something else, anything else, to get his mind off this. "You didn't have to give me a ride, you know." 

Bunny scoffed. "I'm not sure you'd have made it home otherwise." 

"I meant to sleep at Antonio's," Kotetsu muttered, and then considered what Antonio was probably doing right now. "Bastard." 

"Me or Mr. Lopez?" Bunny asked. 

"Antonio," Kotetsu said. "I'm not dumb enough to call my ride home a bastard." 

"At least not while we're riding." Bunny sounded amused.

Kotetsu laughed. "Hey, I've never called you a bastard."

"Given the way we met, I sincerely doubt that." 

"I didn't!" Kotetsu insisted. "I called you a prick." 

Bunny coughed. "Wonderful. I'm glad to know your every acquaintance thinks I'm a _prick_."

That was probably _not_ the best thing he could've said right now, even if it was true. Kotetsu scrambled to recover. "They don't! They know you now. But you have to admit, we got off on the wrong foot." 

"You're the one whose geese were in the middle of the damn road, and you refused to do anything to get them _out_ of it," Bunny reminded him. 

"I told you, they're geese! There's only so much I can do. They moved eventually." 

"I still don't see how that makes _me_ a prick," Bunny said loftily. 

Kotestu elbowed him. "You tried to tell me how to handle my geese, when you've never raised geese a day in your _life_. Had you even seen a goose before Herbert?" 

"Of course I have," Bunny said. "They're in the butcher shops every Christmas." 

"Hey, I meant _live ones_!" 

Bunny huffed, his breath brushing over Kotetsu's ear once again. "I'm just teasing." 

His voice was close. If Kotetsu turned his head right now, Bunny's face would be right there. _Don't think about it_ , he reminded himself. "I knew that." 

Kotetsu _swore_ he could feel Bunny smirking behind him.

The road stretched before them, bathed silver in the moonlight and weaving between the dark hills. The air was cold enough that the extra body warmth was very nice, and Kotetsu found himself relaxing incrementally into Bunny's chest. He probably shouldn't have, but he was drunk and there wasn't much room on the saddle and everything else was swaying a bit—probably because of the horse—but Bunny felt solid and steady and comfortable. 

Riding like this, Kotetsu could almost imagine that he wasn't going home alone. That they were going home together. 

"Don't fall off the horse," Bunny murmured. 

Kotetsu jerked; he'd nearly fallen asleep right there. "'M not going to fall. I'm just resting my eyes a little." 

"It feels like you're falling asleep," Bunny said skeptically.

"I'm not falling asleep!" 

"I can't catch you from this angle." 

"You don't need to catch me!" Kotetsu grumbled. "I told you, I'm not going to fall off the damn horse." 

Despite the protest, Bunny's arms tightened on either side of him. For some reason, that did things to Kotetsu's heart, things that it was a lot harder to ignore when he'd been drinking as much as he had. 

_Stop it_ , he told himself sternly. It didn't matter. Bunny was leaving and there wasn't anything Kotetsu could do about it. 

"When are you going back?" Kotetsu asked. 

"Going back where?" 

"Y'know. Leaving. Going back to the city." Kotetsu hoped he didn't sound bitter. "Going home." 

"Ten days," Bunny said, after a pause. "We have the house party next week, and then I'll leave two days after that." 

Ten days, and then Bunny would be gone. Kotetsu rubbed his chest, where his heart was hurting more. "It'll be nice to be back home, I bet." 

"I...yes. I imagine it will be," Bunny said softly. 

"Do you miss it?" 

It took Bunny so long to answer that Kotetsu half-thought he'd imagined asking the question. "I did, at first," Bunny said. "Less so, now. I suppose I've gotten used to being here again." 

Kotetsu stared out at the hills, at the line of stars speckling the horizon. "Heh. 'S nice here."

"I believe you have some bias in that area," Bunny said. "But yes. It is. More than I remembered."

It was probably just Kotetsu's imagination that Bunny sounded a little wistful. "Makes sense, though. Bad memories. I understand why you stayed away." 

"I still shouldn't have stayed away so long. There's so much I could've fixed _sooner_ if I'd just—"

"Hey, don't start that again," Kotetsu admonished him. "Sure, things could've been fixed sooner, but you came back _now_ , and it wasn't too late. And this time, we got to work together."

Bunny was quiet for a very long time. "Yes. We did." 

They rode over the next hill and there was Kotetsu's house, settled just off the road with a lone lantern near the door. Normally he was relieved to see his house at this point, but tonight, he just wished he could have a few more minutes with Bunny. 

Bunny rode up to the house and dismounted, and Kotetsu silently mourned the loss of the warmth all along his legs and back. 

Bunny held his hands up toward Kotetsu. "Be careful." 

"I'm not so drunk I've forgotten how to get off a _horse_ ," Kotetsu muttered, and proceeded to spend the next several seconds trying to get his foot out of the stirrup. 

Bunny rolled his eyes and did not move away.

Kotetsu managed to swing his leg over the saddle without falling, although he did stumble a little getting his other foot out of the stirrup. Bunny caught him from behind, by the elbows, and steadied him until Kotetsu had both feet on the ground. 

Kotetsu turned around and rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. "Thanks. That went a lot better than the last time you had to catch me, huh?" 

"It's a much shorter drop," Bunny pointed out. 

"Heh. That's true." 

He should've said good night and gone into the house. It was cold, and his hands and feet were feeling the chill. But Kotetsu couldn't quite bring himself to walk away just yet, and Bunny hadn't made a move to get back on the horse. 

"Thank you for the ride," Kotetsu finally said. 

Bunny's lips twitched into a soft smile. "Still think I'm a prick?" 

Kotetsu shrugged and grinned at him. "Only a little. But that's not such a bad thing!" he continued in a rush. "You care about the people here, and you're concerned with making sure you do things properly. So you're a little stiff about it sometimes. That's not bad."

Bunny ducked his head a little and glanced away. The only light Kotetsu had to see by was the lantern by the house and the full moon in the sky, but he could've _sworn_ Bunny blushed. 

"It hasn't been what I expected," Bunny said. "Being back here."

"Yeah? What did you expect?" Kotetsu asked. 

Bunny rubbed his chest. "I thought the longer I stayed, it would hurt more. Everything would remind me of my parents. But...it hasn't. If anything, rebuilding the house, being here...it's made it all hurt less. Or it does but it's...different." He sighed. "I don't think I'm making sense."

"No! It makes sense." Kotetsu took a step forward. "It makes perfect sense. I'm glad it's been better than you thought it would." 

Bunny stared at him, green eyes wide behind his glasses. "I'll miss it here," he said quietly. 

"You could always stay," Kotetsu blurted out before he could stop himself. 

A shadow passed over Bunny's face. "I don't think I can."

Kotetsu _thought_ he'd done a good job of not getting his hopes up, but from the way his stomach dropped, he really hadn't. "Right." He forced levity into his voice. "You want to get back home. I understand." He shoved his cap further down his face, just enough to hide his eyes. "Sorry. I'm still a little drunk." 

"Of course," Bunny said. "Then it's probably best you get some rest." 

"I will." Kotetsu stepped away, back toward his house. "Will you be all right getting home?" 

"I will be fine," Bunny said. "I'm not the one who tried to out-drink everyone else in the tavern." 

Kotetsu seized the budding argument with both hands. "I didn't try to out-drink _everyone_. Just a couple of people." 

Bunny half-smiled. "My point remains." 

Kotetsu really couldn't handle Bunny smiling like that right now. He touched the brim of his cap and bowed slightly. "Good night, Lord Bunny." 

"Good night, Kotetsu." 

He opened the gate and made his way through the front garden to the house, far enough from the lantern to be in shadow, and he watched Bunny mount his horse and ride down the road toward Apollon Manor. He should probably have gone on inside, but Kotetsu couldn't bring himself to do that just yet, so he sat outside in the cold and scrubbed his hands over his face. 

He shouldn't have said anything. He shouldn't have suggested it, not when he knew what the answer was going to be. 

Why would Bunny stay here when he had a life to get back to in the city? Kotetsu loved this town, loved the people here and the land and even if it wasn't exciting, it was his. He couldn't imagine being anywhere else, and he couldn't imagine Bunny wanting to stay here for...for what? They had a friendship, but what else would they have? Was there anything else they _could_ have? Kotetsu wasn't the type who could handle a physical relationship without emotional attachment; when he fell, he fell hard. 

And all of that assumed Bunny even returned his feelings, which Kotetsu was positive he didn't. He couldn't. So it wasn't worth thinking about, anyway.

But even as he told himself that, he couldn't forget how it had felt to ride back from town together. How it felt to be pressed against Bunny, with his arms around him and his breath on his ear. 

"Stop wanting things you can't have," Kotetsu scolded himself, and then he stood and went into the house. He needed to get to bed. 

Still, he had a feeling sleep would be a long time coming.


	12. In Which There Is Candor

Even though construction was finished, Barnaby found his days were no less busy. Between getting the house ready for a real party and making preparations to return to the city, he had very little time to himself, which meant very little time to think about Kotetsu and any lingering feelings he might have had. 

Well, _lingering_ was perhaps not the best word when said feelings continued to throttle him at inopportune times. He missed Kotetsu, even more so now that they had no reason to see each other on a daily basis. There would be no more sharing lunches or dinners, no more casual conversations while they worked side-by-side, no more drinks at the tavern. No more midnight rides home together. 

The thought cast a pall to every day, which was certainly not helped by the weather turning dreary and cold as autumn made its presence known. 

He thought he was doing a good job of keeping his feelings controlled until Samantha brought him tea in the office one day and didn't leave as quickly as she normally did. She seemed to be hovering. 

Barnaby turned his attention to adding cream to his tea. "Is there something you need, Mrs. Taylor?" 

"Do you mind if I speak plainly, milord?" she asked. 

"Of course not." 

"Well," Samantha sat on the edge of a chair on the other side of the desk, "we've noticed you've been in a bit of a mood lately." 

_That_ got his attention. Barnaby lowered the teaspoon to the saucer. "A mood?" 

"Yes. Mr. Garrett and Mr. Holt and I. Did something happen?" She nodded at the desk. "Something with the accounts?" 

Barnaby shook his head and took a sip of his tea. "No, nothing's happened. The accounts are in...well, not perfect order, but much better order than they were a few months ago. Why do you ask?" 

That did not make Samantha look any less concerned. "Have you and Mr. Kaburagi had a fight?" 

Barnaby choked on the tea and immediately set the cup down before he dropped it. "No. Of course not. I haven't seen Kotet—Mr. Kaburagi in days. We couldn't have had a fight." 

He hoped Samantha didn't notice the slip, but Barnaby had a feeling he wasn't going to be that lucky. 

Her eyes widened, and then she sat back with a small smile and smoothed her dress. "Oh, I see." 

"What do you see?" Barnaby cursed himself internally for the question. "There's nothing _to_ see." 

Samantha stood and curtsied. "If you say so, milord." 

Barnaby was _not_ going to rise to the comment. He wasn't. "And what makes you say that?" 

Apparently, he was.

"Oh, nothing much," Samantha said serenely. "But if it's been days since you've seen Mr. Kaburagi, that would explain why you've been in such a mood." 

Barnaby took another sip of his tea. Set the cup back down. Turned back to the papers he'd been organizing on the desk, which ones would come with him and which ones would stay here at the manor. "I fail to see how not seeing Mr. Kaburagi for a few days would put me in a mood." 

Samantha looked at him over the tops of her glasses, clearly conveying her opinion of his mental faculties without actually calling him a fool out loud. "If you say so, milord." 

"I do," Barnaby said, feeling unusually childish with the response. "And I don't appreciate you insinuating otherwise." 

Samantha gave him another little curtsey. "Of course, milord." 

Why did he get the feeling she was still disagreeing with him? "Mrs. Taylor, if you have noticed something else, I would prefer it if you would disagree with me plainly instead of...whatever this is." 

"It's not my place to disagree with you, milord," Samantha said. "My job is to see to this household and your needs. If you insist you're all right, then there isn't anything to disagree with." 

Barnaby rubbed his temple. "You seem to think that I am in a mood because I haven't seen Mr. Kaburagi for a few days. I am simply asking why you think that." 

"If you need to ask me why, then I'm afraid there's nothing I can do to help you," Samantha said, before adding on a belated, "milord." 

Barnaby sincerely doubted that adding the "milord" made it _less_ insubordinate, but then again, he had asked. "Are you insinuating that I have," what in the world could he call it that didn't make him sound like a besotted fool, "inclinations toward Mr. Kaburagi?" 

Samantha's eyebrows flew up, and from the way she pressed her lips together, Barnaby guessed it was only decades of practice that kept her from bursting into laughter. "Inclinations," she repeated, and her voice was only a little strangled. "I suppose that is one way of putting it." 

Barnaby forged ahead as though his housekeeper were not struggling to keep from laughing in his face. "Well, I can assure you I do not. And even if I did, there are too many other complications which would make such a thing impossible."

Samantha sat back in the chair once again and folded her hands in her lap. "And what might those be, milord?" 

It sounded like an innocent question, like she genuinely wanted to know all the complications, which Barnaby felt should be utterly self-evident. He set aside another stack of papers while he enumerated. "I am a baron with no heir and, at the moment, limited funds. Mr. Kaburagi is a gentleman—a very kind gentleman, mind you—but his funds are equally limited and there _is_ the matter that there would be no heir in that particular union. Plus, his family and trade are here, while I have responsibilities in the city that I cannot simply abandon."

He spoke quickly, brusquely, simply listing off the facts as they existed. "And naturally, all that assumes that any hypothetical inclinations were returned, which of course they would not be, as it is fairly clear where Mr. Kaburagi's preferences lie, given his previous marriage. So there you have it."

Barnaby did not look up from his desk once he'd finished. Knowing the bare facts himself was bad enough; actually verbalizing them to another person was even worse. He sipped his tea and willed the lump in his throat to dissolve with the hot liquid. 

Samantha cleared her throat. "So you've spoken to him about this...inclination, then?" 

Barnaby scoffed. "Of course not. Why would I speak of something that doesn't exist? You asked me to outline the complications if it did. I was doing so." 

Samantha _hmmed_ softly. "Seems silly to me that you would include a complication that might not be one, then." 

"What are you talking about?" 

"Well, needing an heir is an important consideration for a man of your status," Samantha said. "Of course, I could tell you many stories of nobles who, upon finding that they had a preference for the same sex, sought someone who had already had children for that very reason. But you are right, that is a complication." 

Barnaby snapped his head up. "What?" 

Samantha smiled at him. "I was simply agreeing that an heir is a complication. As is where one will live. Although many nobles make their country estates their full-time homes and only return to the city when Parliament is in session. I'm sure that's a discussion they have with their spouses when necessary. Certainly a complication to consider, though, you are right. However—" 

Barnaby narrowed his eyes. "Mrs. Taylor—" 

She blinked at him, the picture of innocence. "Yes, milord?" 

Barnaby really had no idea how he was going to finish that sentence, other than _stop offering perfectly workable solutions I didn't think of myself_. "Nothing. My apologies. I interrupted you." 

"However," Samantha continued, as if he hadn't interrupted, "making a statement about another person's preferences or... _inclinations_ assumes that you have spoken with them about those preferences. And if you haven't, well, you don't actually _know_ , do you? So you're adding a complication where there may not be one. That's not very logical, is it?"

When she put it _that_ way, it didn't sound logical at all, but Barnaby would be damned if he would agree out loud. "I'll keep that in mind for the future." 

Samantha stood and folded her hands in front of her. "Was there anything else you needed, milord?" 

"No, there isn't," Barnaby said. "And thank you, Mrs. Taylor, for your candor." 

"Oh, that wasn't candor, milord." Samantha walked to the door. "That was just pointing out some potential solutions for hypothetical complications. As you said." 

Barnaby snorted. "In that case, I'm almost afraid to ask what _candor_ would be." 

Samantha clucked her tongue and fixed him with an uncharacteristically stern look. "You may have inclinations toward men, milord, but my insinuation was that you have _feelings_ for Mr. Kaburagi. And if you would actually like to remove the complications that come with those feelings, then I am strongly _suggesting_ you try talking with him about it." 

Barnaby froze. 

The stern look faded, replaced by Samantha's usual gentle smile. "That's what candor would be, milord. Ring if you need anything else." 

With that, she left the room, leaving Barnaby with the facts from an outsider's perspective and the uncomfortable realization that he had not been nearly as circumspect as he'd thought.

***

Kotetsu gazed up at Apollon Manor as he walked up the drive with Kaede and his mother, just like they had a few months before. It was just as tall as it had been a few months before, too, but not nearly as dark, even if dusk was much further along. This time, every window had a light and the main doors were flung wide open. 

It made him smile. 

Kaede, as before, was practically vibrating in excitement, visibly struggling to walk at a pace becoming a young lady. Anju had a hand on Kotetsu's arm this time; her back had mostly healed, but it still helped if she had something or someone to hold on to if they were walking a long distance. Kotetsu had suggested taking the carriage, but he'd been vetoed on that. The weather was still nice enough for a walk, his mother had said, and they'd better enjoy it while it lasted. 

"Hey, Kaede, why don't you go on ahead?" Kotetsu said. "Go find Antonio and tell him we're on our way." 

Kaede's whole body seemed to light up. "I will!" 

With that, she was off like a shot up the drive, joining the throng of people in front of the manor. 

Anju gave him an exasperated look. 

"What?" Kotetsu said. "She's not going that far and it'll help her burn off the energy." 

"She needs to learn more patience," Anju said. "She won't be a child for much longer." 

Kotetsu sighed. "I know. But what's the harm in letting her run tonight?" 

He knew he couldn't keep Kaede from growing up any more than he could stop the seasons from changing. But soon enough, she wouldn't want to run all the way up the drive. She wouldn't want to hug him when he came in from the field, even if she wrinkled her nose at how sweaty he was. Soon enough, she'd be a young lady and she'd be putting her thoughts toward her future, and he'd have to let her go. 

So what was the harm in letting her be a child as long as she wanted? 

"Are you all right?" Anju asked. 

Kotetsu shook himself out of his maudlin thoughts. "I'm fine! I just got distracted by how many windows the house has. It never looked this big before." 

His mother scoffed and shook her head, and Kotetsu relaxed a little. It seemed she wasn't going to push it any further. 

Unlike the first party, Bunny was not greeting everyone at the door, which meant they did not spend nearly as much time waiting to get inside. And that wasn't the only change from the previous party. 

This time, the foyer was bright and clean and decorated, as were the rooms off to either side, all of them filled with people. It felt lighter than it had before, like a veil had been lifted from the house, getting rid of years of grief and neglect. 

Kotetsu heard a familiar voice off to his left, and like a magnet, turned toward it. Bunny was talking to a small group, dressed in all his finery and smiling like he hadn't a care in the world. Not just the polite smile he'd had in the first party, but a _genuine_ smile, like the veil that had settled on the house had lifted from him as well. 

He was so beautiful that it hurt to look at him. Or maybe it just hurt that he was leaving. That this was likely the last chance Kotetsu would have to see him for a long time. 

If it was, then he was going to memorize every second. God, he wanted to remember Bunny happy. 

Anju poked him in the side. "You should say hello to him." 

Kotetsu whipped back around to her, his neck on fire from getting caught staring. "What? Who?" 

Anju rolled her eyes. "Lord Lapincourt, who else? But take me into the other room first. I'd like some punch." 

Kotetsu took her into the room with the punch and made sure she got a drink, and then helped her sit down. He would have hovered more, but she waved him away and turned to talk to Mrs. Penny, clearly ready to get caught up on the town gossip. 

He left her to it and walked back to the foyer, although not so far in that Bunny might have seen him. 

It was good to see this, good to see how much the manor had changed, how much closer it had moved to being like it was when the previous Lord and Lady Lapincourt had been in residence. And it was good to see how much Bunny had changed, how he'd let go of his anger and started to heal. Maybe not as much as he needed to and maybe not as quickly as the house had, but he was moving in the right direction. 

Kotetsu's heart panged—a hurt, but a good hurt—and he idly rubbed his chest. 

"You should go talk to him," a voice said right in his ear. 

Kotetsu jumped and banged his shoulder on the edge of the doorframe. He swore under his breath and turned to glare at Nathan, who stood beside him with a glass of wine and a very unimpressed expression. 

Kotetsu rubbed his shoulder and hissed at the pain, choosing not to acknowledge that this was the _second_ person who'd told him to talk to Bunny. "Do you enjoy sneaking up on people?"

Nathan took a long sip of his wine. "I've been standing right here for the past minute. It's not my fault you're so taken with our handsome baron that you didn't notice." 

Kotetsu twitched at the description and crossed his arms. "He's busy right now. I'll talk to him later. There's plenty of time." 

Nathan leaned in and whispered conspiratorially, "You know, I have it on good authority that he's been looking forward to seeing you tonight, too." 

Kotetsu spun on him. "What? Who told you that?" 

Nathan winked and placed a finger to his lips. "A lady never tells." 

Kotetsu poked him. "I know too many ladies who gossip to believe _that_." 

"A lady never tells a _man_ ," Nathan corrected primly. "Now go on and flirt with him. This pining from afar is putting me off my wine." 

Kotetsu was going to argue, he _was_ , but then Bunny looked up from whoever he was talking to and their eyes locked, and Kotetsu momentarily lost the ability to speak. Lost the ability to _breathe_ , if he was being honest with himself. 

Even from halfway across the room, Bunny's eyes were brilliantly green, wide behind his glasses, and Kotetsu couldn't look away from them. He lifted his hand in a little wave. 

The smile on Bunny's face softened, and Kotetsu felt like he'd been kicked in the chest. 

He pushed off the wall to walk over, just as three ladies swooped between them with fluttering fans and a cheery, "Lord Lapincourt!" 

Bunny looked away to greet them, and Kotetsu could, unfortunately, breathe again. He sagged back against the doorframe and clenched his jaw to keep from groaning in frustration. 

"That's either the most romantic or most disgusting thing I've ever seen," Nathan murmured into his wine. 

Kotetsu shot him a dirty look. "We can talk later." 

That got him an arched eyebrow as Nathan took another sip of wine. "Mm-hmm." 

Kotetsu shoved off the wall and went in search of a drink of his own. Several drinks, maybe. It was going to be that kind of night.


	13. In Which There Are Confessions

The party was so different from the first one Barnaby couldn't help but compare them. This time, he knew many people by name, had heard about their families and friends and their lives. He could congratulate Ivan on getting into university and Pao-lin on her job at the general store, ask Miss Lyle about her plans to travel to the city for the Season. He could joke with the men who'd come to help work on rebuilding the wing. He was not just the baron; he was a _part_ of this town now, and he'd had no idea how important that was. 

The only downside was that he had no chance to speak with Kotetsu. 

See him, certainly. Barnaby's eyes seemed to be drawn to him, off to the side of the room with a drink, sometimes with Miss Seymour or Lopez or even Mrs. Kaburagi, but alone more often than not. Yet every time Barnaby made to go to him, someone else stepped into his line of vision to talk or dance or flirt or ask if he'd met their daughter/niece/dear cousin from a few towns over. He did his best to be cordial each time, but after three hours of being thwarted every time he tried to talk to Kotetsu, he was close to snapping. 

And naturally, by the time he'd been left alone for twenty seconds at a stretch, Kotetsu had vanished. 

Barnaby swore under his breath and went looking. 

He wasn't anywhere to be found in any of the rooms, but Barnaby did spot Mrs. Kaburagi and Kaede still by the punch, which meant it was unlikely Kotetsu had left. But if he wasn't anywhere in the front rooms where the party was, where would he be? 

Barnaby had scarcely finished the thought when it hit him, and he turned on his heel and strode toward the north wing. 

Samantha intercepted him on his way. "Milord, is everything all right?" 

"Fine," Barnaby said. "I'm just taking a walk in the garden, if anyone asks. Getting some fresh air. I'll be back shortly." 

She eyed him dubiously. "Yes, milord." 

Barnaby walked through the new, unfurnished wing to the exterior doors that opened to the rear garden. As it was autumn and the days were getting shorter, they had not done much to the gardens aside from very basic care. In the spring, they would be magnificent, he hoped. For now, they were just waiting. Right now, the only real living thing in the garden was the fountain, which burbled softly instead of standing silent. 

And, as Barnaby had expected—or perhaps only hoped—there was a lanky silhouette leaning against the wide stone edge of the fountain. 

He took a deep breath and strode toward the fountain, the sound of his boots on the stone pavers echoing in the night air. "You know, the party is supposed to be inside the house." 

Kotetsu jumped away from the fountain with a jerk, and then laughed softly. "I thought this was part of the house." 

Barnaby stopped a few feet away from him, close enough that he could see Kotetsu's face in the moonlight, but far enough away that there was a respectable distance between them. "It is now." 

Kotetsu shoved his hands in his pockets and looked up at the wing. "Yeah, it is." 

Barnaby followed his gaze up to the newly constructed wing, dark against the night sky. Only a handful of the windows had lanterns lit; mostly the wing wasn't yet ready for visitors. He'd taken the townspeople on a brief tour, of course; they'd walked through and oohed and ahhed very appropriately before returning to the main rooms where there was food and drink and dancing.

Barnaby found himself very much regretting that he hadn't been able to dance with Kotetsu. 

That line of thought very quickly turned to their midnight ride home, the conversation outside Kotetsu's house, and the words _you could always stay.  
_  
What had surprised him was not that he'd wanted to say _yes_. It was that he wanted to say _yes_ to staying with Kotetsu. 

But that was not what Kotetsu had meant. And Barnaby could not stay here without staying with Kotetsu, as well. 

Samantha's voice broke into his whirling thoughts. 

_If you would actually like to remove the complications that come with those feelings, then I am strongly_ suggesting _you try talking with him about it.  
_   
He did so hate it when she was right. 

Kotetsu rocked back on his heels. "So did I keep up my end of the bargain?" 

Barnaby shook himself out of his head and cleared his throat. "Yes, I'd say you have." 

Kotetsu grinned at him. "Heh. Told you I could do it." 

Why did that stupid grin make him fall a little more in love every time he saw it? "I only doubted you a little." 

Kotetsu laughed at that. "At least it was only a little." He tipped his hat. "I'll leave you to it, Lord Bunny. Thank you for sharing your garden. And hey, at least you have a good house to come back to if you ever decide to visit." 

He started to walk away, and Barnaby's heart jumped into his throat. No, he didn't want Kotetsu to leave yet. He didn't want Kotetsu to leave _at all_ , and this might be the last time he had to tell him that. "When I come back."

Kotetsu stopped and half-turned back to him. "When?" 

Was that a note of hope in his voice, or was Barnaby just imagining it? He put his hands in his own pockets and kept his eyes fixed on the wing, trying not to think about how his heart was about to beat out of his chest. "Yes. When I come back." 

"It's not going to be another twenty years from now, is it?" Kotetsu asked, a teasing lilt to his voice. 

"Doubtful," Barnaby said. "There's too much here that will need my attention. I'll need to see how the new staff is getting on, for one thing, and Miss Joubert is the one handling most of my accounts now. That will require more personal visits."

He chanced a glance away from the wing over to Kotetsu to try and gauge his reaction. Kotetsu was also staring up at the wing, his face in just enough shadow that Barnaby couldn't quite read it. 

"That'll be good," Kotetsu finally said. "Is that the only reason you'd come back?" 

"I've heard some more of your experimental beer should be ready later this year," Barnaby said. "I'm intrigued." 

"Coming back to try beer, of course." Kotetsu sounded like he was smiling. "I'd come back for that, too." 

Barnaby shrugged. "And someone needs to keep an eye on you and I'm not sure I trust Mr. Lopez to do it." 

That startled a laugh out of Kotetsu, and he finally turned to Barnaby. "You'd come back to keep me from falling off another scaffold?" 

"Or a horse," Barnaby said. 

Kotetsu laughed again. "I'll try to save my falling for when I know you'll be there to catch me, then." 

The phrasing made Barnaby's heart beat faster, which was fairly impressive considering how fast it was already going. "A wise decision. And perhaps you would consider visiting me in the city sometime, as well." 

He added the words quickly, trying his best to keep his voice even, trying not to betray how very much he wanted that. How very much he wanted Kotetsu with him. 

"Visiting you?" Kotetsu repeated. "You'd want me to visit you?"

Barnaby couldn't read anything in his voice beyond incredulity. "Yes, that is what I said. It's good to see you retain your hearing." 

Kotetsu smiled wryly, but his eyes had softened in a way that made Barnaby's entire chest tighten. "You don't think an old-fashioned farmer would ruin your image?" 

Barnaby gave him a look that he hoped conveyed how completely inane he found that statement. "I could not possibly care less about my image. I—" 

He bit the words off, suddenly unsure of how they might be received. 

"You what?" Kotetsu asked quietly. 

Barnaby focused his attention on the fountain. "I do not care about my image, " he said again. "I do, however, care very much about you. And as much as I have come to like everyone here, I believe I will miss you the most." He cleared his throat and made himself meet Kotetsu's gaze once again. "So yes. I would very much like you to visit me." 

Kotetsu stared at him like Barnaby had started speaking in tongues. "You care about me?" 

Lord help him, he really had fallen for the most oblivious man in the town. "Of course I do," Barnaby snapped. "Why in the world do you think I asked you to visit me? Why do you think I intend to come back to see _you?_ "

"I don't know!" Kotetsu glanced away. "You're just being polite. You're just polite a lot of the time."

Barnaby rolled his eyes. "Have I _ever_ been polite with you, once, in the entire time we've known each other?"

He did not like _admitting_ that he'd been that way, but it worked somewhat in his favor now. He had never particularly cared about being polite to Kotetsu.

And from the slow grin spreading across his face, Kotetsu knew it. "No. You haven't. In fact, you've been kind of a prick."

Barnaby sighed heavily. "So you keep saying."

"You were. But," Kotetsu rubbed the back of his neck, "I was kind of a prick, too."

"No, you were a beacon of maturity and restraint," Barnaby said dryly.

Kotetsu threw his head back and laughed, and the sound of it echoed around the garden and made Barnaby feel warm all the way through. And then he looked at Barnaby and the laughter faded into a smile, soft and genuine. Barnaby had never had a person look at him like that in his entire life. His heart had no idea what to do about it, so it just stopped entirely.

"I'll come visit you," Kotetsu said. "If you want me there, Bunny, I'll be there. I'll be wherever you need me."

The soft look on his face and the quiet conviction in his voice only intensified the acrobatics in Barnaby's chest, and heremembered Samantha's words about complications. Perhaps he _had_ been operating under the assumption that a complication existed when it in fact did not. 

And if that one did not exist, then...what was he willing to do about the others?

They were still separated by the fountain, burbling quietly in the night, and Barnaby could not look away from Kotetsu's gaze. 

Shakily, he took a step forward, to move around the fountain. "I have another confession to make." 

"Oh?" Kotetsu asked, taking a step in his direction. "What's that?" 

Barnaby took another step, trying very much to move as slowly and casually as he could. "I am not really looking forward to going back." 

"Eh? Why not?" Kotetsu sounded surprised. "I thought you were ready to get home." 

Barnaby shrugged. "It's not home," he admitted. "I don't think it ever was."

Kotetsu was frowning at him now. "It's not?" 

Barnaby shook his head. "No. It's a place I live, but..."

He trailed off, not quite able to find a way to explain. He had been so young when he'd left, he had forgotten how it felt to have a place to belong. To have a place where your heart felt settled, rather than merely a place you were used to living. 

Kotetsu moved closer and did not ask him to explain. "So...where _is_ home for you?" 

He was within arm's reach now. Barnaby clenched his fists to keep from reaching out. "It's here," he whispered. "With the town. With...you." 

It was both terrifying and freeing, giving voice to the feelings he'd been struggling with on some level since Kotetsu's damned geese had stopped his carriage. 

Kotetsu stared at him for a long moment, and just when Barnaby was beginning to fear he'd said too much, Kotetsu stepped forward, cupped his face, and kissed him softly. 

_Oh._

Every concern, every anxiety, every complication that Barnaby had been worrying over for weeks vanished the moment their lips touched. Kotetsu's hands were huge and warm and gentle on his jaw, holding him like he was something precious, like he had been wanting this, too. 

Kotetsu pulled back slightly. "Was that—" 

Barnaby kissed him again, silencing whatever was about to come next. 

As if Kotetsu could read his mind, he traced one hand back into Barnaby's hair, pulling it free of the tie and twisting it around his fingers. That sent a delightful shiver down his spine, and Barnaby groaned into their kiss. Which Kotetsu apparently took as invitation to deepen the kiss, and Barnaby grabbed for his waistcoat for fear he'd be swept away. 

Then Kotetsu pulled away _again,_ but he did not let go and did not look away. He traced his thumb along Barnaby's cheek. "Don't go back, Bunny," he whispered, like he was trying to get the words all out in one breath. "Stay here."

Barnaby leaned into the touch. "Here with you?" 

Kotetsu groaned and kissed the corner of his mouth, and then rested their foreheads together. " _Please_." 

Barnaby couldn't say no. And honestly, he didn't want to. He hadn't wanted to for weeks now. He tightened his grip on Kotetsu's waistcoat. "I'll stay." 

Even with their heads tipped together, he could still see Kotetsu's brilliant smile. "You will?" 

"Yes," Barnaby said. "Although I still have to go back the day after tomorrow. There are matters I left unhandled that need my attention. And I'll still have to return regularly for business and political duties." 

The caveat did nothing to dim Kotetsu's smile, and he kissed Barnaby's cheek. "Mmhmm." 

Barnaby closed his eyes. Kotetsu was making it very difficult to focus. "But once I've finished, I can come back." 

Kotetsu kissed his cheek again, slightly lower this time. "How long?" 

"I'm not sure," Barnaby admitted. "A month? Maybe two? It'll depend on several things." 

Kotetsu continued trailing kisses down his face to his jaw. "And then you'll be back. To live _here_." 

Barnaby was fighting to keep his thoughts in order when all he really wanted to do was turn his head and kiss Kotetsu again properly. "And there are still other complications we'll need to discuss." 

Kotetsu stopped kissing him then, but it was only to stand back enough to look Barnaby in the eye. "We'll figure them out." He grinned. "We got your house rebuilt, didn't we?" 

The unshakeable confidence in his voice made Barnaby feel as though they could handle anything as long as they were together. He let go of Kotetsu's waistcoat and slid his hands down to his waist to hold him there. "Yes. We did." 

Kotetsu leaned back in to him. "Then we'll figure it out."

"Your confidence is very impressive for someone who doesn't know what those complications are," Barnaby said. 

Kotetsu laughed softly. "And you're talking too much." 

"Is there something else you'd prefer me to be doing?" Barnaby asked. 

In response, Kotetsu kissed him again, deeply, as though he were trying to ensure Barnaby wouldn't try to use his mouth for anything else. And really, Barnaby was hard-pressed to think of anything he'd rather be doing. 

They _did_ have more things to discuss, and he _was_ still leaving in two days. 

But this time, he would be coming back in just a few weeks, rather than twenty years. And this time, Kotetsu would be waiting for him. 

And this time, Barnaby really would be coming home.


	14. In Which a Baron Comes Home

_Two months later_

Barnaby wasn't sure which he disliked more: traveling in the summer, when it was so hot it felt like he was boiling inside the carriage, or traveling in the winter, when it was so frigid he could no longer feel his hands and feet. 

At the moment, winter was winning, because even with two blankets over him, he was still shivering. Oh well. Even with the roads as bad as they were, he should still be home very soon. Finally. 

It had taken ages to organize everything he would need to live in the country, longer than he'd hoped but not as long as he'd half expected it to. Even though he'd taken care of everything as quickly as humanly possible, it still hadn't been fast enough when he wanted nothing more than to be back _here_. To be home.

To be home with Kotetsu, specifically. 

They had written each other while he was in the city. Barnaby scribbled his letters while he was reviewing paperwork, typically filling two or three pages before he managed to make himself stop. Kotetsu's letters, on the other hand, were short and frank, scarcely a full page at most, not a spot of flowery language in sight. But every letter ended the same way: 

_I miss you. I'm counting the days until you come home._

_Yours,  
Kotetsu_

Those thirteen words spoke volumes that Barnaby felt he couldn't capture, even with two or three times the pages. He tried, though. And he hoped the letters conveyed even a small fraction of what he was feeling. 

But finally, he'd finished everything he needed to in the city, he'd completed arrangements for moving most of his things, and now he was nearly there. Three days earlier than he'd anticipated, and he had told no one. He wanted it to be a surprise. 

The carriage turned sharply, and Barnaby peered out the window. No, he _was_ there; they had turned onto the drive for Apollon Manor. 

Even with the dreary grey sky and the trees bare of leaves, it was still one of the most welcome sights he'd ever seen. 

The driver pulled the carriage along the front steps and Barnaby practically leapt out of it as soon as it was safe to do so. It was not quite dusk yet, but the lanterns in the first-story windows were lit, although the main doors themselves were shut tight and no one was on the stairs to greet him. 

Barnaby didn't mind; he wouldn't have blamed them for staying inside in this weather even if they'd known he was coming home early. 

"Anyone home, milord?" his driver asked. 

The wind cut right through him, and Barnaby shivered. "Yes, they should be. Wait here." 

He scaled the steps and knocked on the door, wondering for the first time if he should've sent word to Samantha, at least. He assumed someone should be home—especially given that they had a few more staff at the manor, now—but that might be incorrect. 

The door opened and revealed his new butler, Mr. Hale, who started to greet him, stopped, and stared at him for a full fifteen seconds before he managed, "Lord Lapincourt?" 

"Mr. Hale, good to see you," Barnaby said. "Might I come in? It's freezing." 

"I—yes, my lord, of course." Hale stepped aside hastily to let Barnaby in. "My apologies. We thought you weren't coming until the end of the week."

"I finished my work early." Barnaby gratefully stepped into the relative warmth of the house. Then again, anything would've been warmer than outside. "Please, have my things brought in from the carriage and get the driver a hot drink. Where's Mrs. Taylor?" 

Hale looked unusually fidgety. "I believe she's in the kitchen, my lord. Should I ring for her?" 

"No." Barnaby shook his head. "I'll go to her. It's doubtful I'll be staying for supper. I intend to ride over to Mr. Kaburagi's house before dark." 

"I—yes, my lord." 

Barnaby raised an eyebrow. "Is there something I need to know, Mr. Hale?" 

"No, my lord?" 

Barnaby narrowed his eyes. "That you phrased it like a question does not make me feel like I got an answer, Mr. Hale." 

Hale looked like he was debating something internally for several seconds before his resolve visibly crumpled. "I believe there's someone in the rear garden you may wish to see, my lord." 

Barnaby frowned. "In the rear garden?" 

"Yes, my lord. The one behind the north wing." 

That was even more confusing; Barnaby had only ever met one person out there and...

And he had a feeling he knew who Hale was referring to. "Thank you, Mr. Hale." He gestured to the carriage at the bottom of the front steps. "I'll leave everything else to you, then?" 

Hale bowed. "Yes, my lord. We'll have it taken care of shortly." 

Barnaby revised his plans to visit Samantha first and instead strode straight to the north wing, which was much different than it had been just two short months ago. The walls were painted and papered now, and the rooms mostly furnished. All except for one, which Barnaby had plans for. 

He exited the house, back into the cold, and made his way to the garden. Although the gardens were in better shape than they had been when he'd first returned at the beginning of the summer, they were not much to look at this close to winter. 

In the beds surrounding the fountain, however, he found a familiar figure crouched beside the bushes, attacking the earth with a spade and a significant amount of swearing. 

Barnaby stood there, watching Kotetsu, and his heart swelled with how much he'd missed him. He walked closer, waiting to see if Kotetsu would notice, but apparently he was far too involved with whatever he was doing. He didn't even look up. 

Barnaby finally gave up waiting. "If you need an axe, I'm sure I can have Mr. Garrett find you one."

Kotetsu startled and fell back on his ass, and then scrambled hurriedly to his feet. "Bunny?!" 

Barnaby smiled. "Kotetsu."

Kotetsu jabbed the spade at Barnaby. "You're not supposed to be back yet! I thought you were arriving Friday."

"I finished my work early," Barnaby said. "And I wanted to surprise you." 

Kotetsu dropped the spade to the ground and stepped around the box of garden implements beside him. "I'm very surprised." 

"So I noticed," Barnaby said dryly. "Now what, pray tell, are you doing in my garden in this weather?" 

"It's a surprise," Kotetsu said defensively. 

"Really? Because it looks like you're playing in the dirt." 

"I'm planting!" Kotetsu argued, and then cursed. 

"Planting?" Barnaby repeated. "When it's nearly winter?" 

Kotetsu sighed and gestured at the box. "Planting bulbs. Tulips, daffodils, that kind of thing. You plant them in autumn and they bloom in the spring." He pulled the thick gloves from his hands and his gaze darted around the garden, but he didn't quite meet Barnaby's eyes. "Mrs. Taylor told me this garden was your mother's, that she was the one who maintained it and picked all the plants. And we've spent enough time out here, I thought it might be nice to make sure it had flowers in the spring." 

Barnaby stared at him. "You were planting me flowers." 

Kotetsu made a face. "I was supposed to finish them today and they would've been a surprise, because you weren't supposed to be back until _Friday_." 

Barnaby closed the distance between them so he could cup Kotetsu's face. "You're planting flowers for me in my mother's garden." 

"Uh...yes." Now Kotetsu looked worried. "Is that all right?" 

Barnaby kissed him in response. Kotetsu's face was cold, of course, but his mouth was warm and welcoming and open and now, _now_ Barnaby felt like he was home. This was what he'd been missing; this was where he belonged. With Kotetsu, in whatever form that took. 

"So I take it you like the flowers," Kotetsu murmured when Barnaby had to pause to breathe. 

Barnaby kissed the corner of his mouth. "Very much. And while we're confessing surprises, one of the rooms in the north wing is yours."

Kotetsu jerked back. "What?!" 

"We built it together," Barnaby said. "And I don't know if it would have been rebuilt at all without you. So I had Mrs. Taylor leave one of the rooms unfurnished. It's yours, to do with as you please." 

"Is this a subtle way of telling me you'd like to live together?" 

"It's my way of telling you that I want you in my life, as long as you'll have me," Barnaby said. 

Kotetsu swore under his breath and glanced away, swiping at his eyes. 

Barnaby frowned. "Kotetsu—" 

"I'm fine," Kotetsu said quickly. "Just...I missed you. And maybe I was a little worried you'd find someone else while you were in the city." 

Barnaby blinked at him. "Really?" 

"You were gone for two months!" Kotetsu said. "And I'm sure there's a lot of eligible people there, and—"

"And I was missing you the entire time," Barnaby cut in. "Because this is home for me. _This_ is where I belong." He stroked Kotetsu's cheek. "Here with you." 

Kotetsu blushed very satisfyingly, and then he pulled Barnaby in for another kiss. And this time, Barnaby didn't even notice the cold. 

He had learned a number of things over the past few months. That his former guardian had been much less trustworthy than he'd ever suspected. That he'd left a mess behind Barnaby had no choice but to clean up. That his neighbor was a man exceedingly proficient at annoying him to no end. That geese could hiss.

He'd also learned how to manage his estate and the names of all his tenants. How to ask for help when he needed it. How to rebuild his house, and with it, how to let go of so much more. 

How to fall in love with the most unlikely person, who was also somehow the most _likely_ person as well. 

Just six months ago, this was not a path he would have chosen. But now, standing in the quiet garden with Kotetsu in his arms, Barnaby would not have traded it for anything in the world.

THE END

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WOO it's all up! 
> 
> Thank you all so much for all your lovely comments; it made my heart so happy to see that you've enjoyed reading this as much I enjoyed writing it. You're the wind beneath my wings. 
> 
> I hope you all have a very happy holiday season! <3 <3

**Author's Note:**

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